Born to be Bred
by Itzy Strange
Summary: The females were starving; unable to leave their hiding place for fear the feral men of Gotham would smell them. There were so few free left, so many more missing or dead. Desperate, an Omega was chosen to approach the city's ruler, to beg the highest ranked Alpha for help. Help was not Bane's intention. Omegaverse, slightly altered AU during the occupation of Gotham. M/F
1. Chapter 1

**This story will be explicit and is intended for mature readers. If you don't like that, don't read it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters related to the DC universe. The original characters and their situations I do own.**

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**Chapter 1**

She'd made it this far... Wide eyes looked through the slit created by the wool cap and the layers upon layers of a dingy muffler wrapped around the bottom half of her face. No one seemed to be paying much attention to her, ignoring the creature in the stinking oversized coat as it stood at the bottom of the steps looking up at Gotham City Hall. Clutching tighter to the bottle of pills in her pocket, holding on to her life line, she took that first step.

Like clockwork, for the last two days she had taken one of those priceless pills every four hours. By that point she should have been saturated in the chemicals, her metabolism and hormones deceived into complacency. A week's worth of food had been traded for them, just so she could make the climb up those steps without being torn to pieces.

She was still mortally afraid.

The roar of the monsters inside, the cheers and heckling as Dr. Crane held court turned her stomach... though the acid feeling may have been a side-effect of the drugs. Already sweating, grateful that the others had covered her in so many layers to hide what she was, Claire took the smallest breathes, tried not to gag from the stink of the rotting corpse that had seasoned her coat, and walked into the madness.

Papers littered the ground, the white showing the tread of the different boots that had tramped over them. The room was packed with the released Blackgate convicts Bane and his men had freed the day he _liberated_ Gotham and made her already difficult life pure hell. The air was ripe with the scent of the men, a pungent mixture of aggressive Alpha and some of the more violent Betas who had come to snarl and yip at whoever was that day's entertainment.

Knowing she had to be quick, that if one of them managed to discover what she was under the stinking filth wrapped around her, that she would be ripped to shreds and all the others would be left to starve. One foot after another, her back pressed against the wall, her eyes darting to and fro, she skirted the crowd. Claire had been told the male usually stood near the back to watch, that he tended to lean against one of the columns. Looking over the taller crowd, she ignored another roll in her gut and forced her feet to move.

You could not have missed him if you tried. Bane was massive, the largest Alpha she had ever seen, and not only that... the mask. Whatever it was, the way it griped his skull as if an extension of him, the hoses and the animalistic quality, it drew the eye.

She swallowed, recognized that he was listening to a shorter solder, a Beta from the look of him. It was that man, the smaller bearded dark haired one, whose sharp blue eyes caught her approach. Diminutive was a gentle way to describe her, but from his expression he found her to be nothing but disregardable. He looked away, dismissing her approach as if she were nothing but a renegade alley cat skulking around.

Gripping those pills, her talisman against evil, Claire walked straight up to the two conversing men in the crowd, looked at the giant, with his mask turned away from her and fought for the words, "I need to speak with you, please."

He didn't even look at her, blatantly ignored the swathed female in her stinking clothes.

"It's very important," she tried a little louder, the sincerity of her eyes, the borderline desperation and obvious fear apparent.

How many times had this happened in her life? The total disregard, the blatant rejection... Claire breathed out a frustrated sigh, almost welcoming the encroaching indignation that was starting to annex the fear. Standing like a tree, a small tree in a forest of redwoods, she just waited and watched him. There was no way she was leaving until she'd spoken with the only person that might be able to save them. He wanted to be pack leader, he wanted to rule... well, they needed food. Pride had only lasted so long, deep down she knew it would not keep them alive, so she come to Bane to ask for help.

Eyes trained on the man, on the largest in the room, maybe in the world, she waited for hours, until past dark. Distantly she heard what was taking place around her, the weeping of the convicted, the sham of their sentences... everyone knew they all walked the ice... and continued those same tiny breaths. Not once had those grey eyes turned toward her, even though she was only a few feet away, rooted to the spot no matter the jostling crowd.

Claire knew that Bane was aware she was there; hoped her determination would draw him to at least glance. The longer she waited the more her heart began to beat erratically. For a moment she felt she might vomit from the smell, not just of her clothes but of all the Alphas raging in the room, and drew out her pills. With the quickest speed she could manage, she opened the lid of the bottle and pinched a little blue tablet between her forefinger and thumb. Her gloved fingers hooked the dirty fluffy muffler, pulled it down just enough to get that pill between her lips and Claire fought to create enough saliva to swallow.

It was jagged passing through her esophagus, made her cringe and groan, but it was not time to fuss over the discomfort. Her fingers quickly readjusted the muffler to cover as much of her skin as possible, pulling the reeking smell back over her nose and mouth.

Something changed in the air and a shot of fear went through her. It was Bane, suddenly far more still. The sound of the bones cracked in his neck as he turned his skull a few more degrees her direction.

Claire was sweating, felt so sick. "I must speak to you..." her voice was hitching from the ragged breaths she fought to control.

He had killed so many people, stories resounded that he did it with his bare hands, just a grip around the throat and crack, you're dead. Even though the fabric around her face she could smell him, more potent than the others for certain, that to her was far more scary than the mask.

Their eyes met, a hard unforgiving grey that seemed to see right through her. Claire gave a shudder, felt a rush, a burning scratch on her insides, the heat, the sudden cramping in her stomach and total terror was left in its wake. Everything had been for nothing. Claire drew in a ragged breath and felt one hot tear escape, swayed on her feet, and whispered to herself in trembling distress, "No... no, no, this can't be happening."

Somehow all the preparations, the pills, had not been enough. There were too many Alphas, too much of their scent in the air, and she had gone directly into heat. Already she could feel the slick gathering between her legs, the smell of it, of something so laced with pheromones that it would not be masked by the horrid stench she'd purposefully dressed in. All those hours she'd thought it been lack of food, the stink of rotting things, and the weight of the cloak... and she'd stood there in the wolves' den like an idiot while the signs had been building... Nausea, racing heart, fever... and the biggest wolf of all was staring straight at her, she finally had his attention, and now it was worthless.

"I needed to speak. I only needed a minute..." She was already becoming delirious, her voice cracking and accusing all at once.

That urge, the one she had fought her whole life was making her shake and try to step away, but there was already a commotion in the room. Alphas sniffing the air like bloodhounds. It was only a matter of time. Air seemed impossible through the muffler, ragged and hitched as she backed away, over aware that the masked giant was countering her steps, facing her full on and staring at her with the wide focused eyes of a predator.

It was his attention, the attention she had needed to save the others, that drew other eyes in the room. More of that damn fluid began to drip down her legs, saturating the fabric of her jeans, signaling that a rare Omega had appeared out of the blue and she was broadcasting a heat cycle.

There would be a riot, a blood bath as they pulled at her... probably mounting her right there on that dirty floor.

Another cramping wave made her double over just a little, her pupils slowly eating up the emerald of her irises until only black with a green ring remained. A roar came from behind her, tight grasping hands clutched at her arm. She screamed and the frenzy began.

Alphas were dominant; they had an animal need to mate an Omega in heat. Self-control, they possessed that too... but not the monsters that were in that room, not the kind of men that were attracted to the courts... not what the men had become in Gotham. She would be raped to death, could already feel someone tearing at her clothes.

Her body's response she could not prevent, the snarls and barks only drew out more slick, made her crave to be mounted... but not by anything that crawled in that room.

A howl, so deafening she covered her ears, projected through her bones. There was the sound of a struggle, gun fire, as Claire instinctively curled in on herself. Fighting her response, forcing her body to straighten so she could do more than yank herself from the clutching hands, she opened her eyes, exposed the blown pupils and prepared to run.

They would chase her, she knew that, Alphas were stronger, faster, and being as she was surrounded, one would catch her; but at least she would have tried. She was unprepared to see the amount of bodies that had already piled on the ground. The sight of so many broken men, some with skulls crushed in, made her freeze and that was all he needed. In that instant an arm as thick as a tree trunk came around her middle and she was carried off, hanging doubled over, by the swaggering pace of a man staking claim... of the victor of the battle. The room still echoed with snarls and shouting, but more so the pained moans of the few on the ground who were lucky enough to be alive.

Combat boots, grey fatigues, and the bottom of a brown shearling coat, came through her delirium. Bane. Praising Nona for the horrible stinking scarf she prepared, Claire fought herself, fought her instincts to smell him and did her best to repeat the mantra that had got her though this nightmare before. She had to speak to him, had to fight her baser urges, to ignore the throbbing wetness the begged to be filled.

_Do you think he will fight his?_

The thought made her sag, an action he no doubt took as submission and not its counterpart, despair. Claire had lost track of the distance or direction he had taken her, only noticed the dimness and the strange feeling of being underground. Over and over in her head she prepared what must be said, promising herself she would say it even if he was rutting, even if he would kill her, she would say it. A door was pulled on thick metal hinges, whined the way she imagined the doors would in old submarines, and they entered a room.

Every breath, even though the muffler was saturated in him... in the heady musk of the prime Alpha. Pressing her hand to her mouth and nose she felt her body writhe against her will and focused again on the small shallow breaths.

Lowered to the floor, her body ached and convulsed once, drawing out a pained groan. She wanted, no needed, to press her hands between her legs... desired friction, but the smell of rotting flesh, it was turning her stomach just as much as the delicious smell of the Alpha's room was driving her mad. With words made bleary with need, sentences broken up by little grunts, she fought past the overwhelming desire to spread her legs for him and grind, "We are starving. The Omega's need food... I have been sent to ask you to arrange a food truck where we can safely procure rations before we all die."

She could see more now. Watched him bolt the door with a rod so thick it was the size of her ankle, trapping her, cornering the Omega for mating. Unsure if Bane had heard, she tried again, "Food truck," using her feet to scoot away from the male until her back hit the wall. "We can't go out... hunted, forced. They're killing us." Her blown pupils looked up at the intimidating male with his predator stare across the room. "You are _the_ Alpha in Gotham, you hold control... we have no one else to ask."

"So you foolishly walked into a room full of feral males to ask for food?" He was mocking her.

The horror of the day and the sexual frustration of her heat made Claire belligerently raise her head and met his eye, "If we don't get food... I'm dead anyway."

When she closed her eyes at another cramping wave, Bane growled, an instinctual reaction to a breeding Omega. The noise shot right between her legs, full of the promise of everything she needed, rapture and relief from the aching hollowness. His grumbled noise sang inside her and a wave of warm slick drenched the floor below her and saturated the air. "Please don't make that noise."

"You are fighting your cycle," he growled low and abrasive, beginning to pace back and forth like a caged lion.

"I've lived a life of celibacy," she panted, her mind registering that this was the first time she'd heard him speak above a quick uttered bark at his men. The words were altered by the grate over his lips, raspy and unnatural. Shaking her head back and forth, Claire began to murmur, "_only instincts, I am not a slave_."

Celibacy? That was unheard of... a rumored story. Omegas could not fight the urge to mate. That is why the Alphas fought for them and forced a pair-bond to keep them for themselves. Even if they had not wanted to, the smell, it drove any Alpha into a rut... the very reason he was so angry. She had waltzed in and started a riot in his domain.

He growled again and the muscles of her pussy clenched so hard she groaned. It was hard enough to make it through estrous locked in room alone until the cycle broke, but his damn noise and the smell invading past the rotting stickiness on her clothing, the musk of the Alpha was breaking her apart.

The degrading way he spoke, it made her open her eyes to see the beast standing still, his massive erection huge under his trousers. "How long does your heat typically last, Omega?"

Shivering, suddenly loving the sound of that lyrical rasp she clenched her fists at her side instead of beckoning him. "Four days, sometimes a week."

"And you have been through them all in seclusion instead of submitting to an Alpha to break them?"

"Yes."

He was making her angry, furious even. Every part of her was screaming out that he should be stroking her and easing the need. THAT IT WAS HIS JOB. With her hand still pressed over her nose and mouth, her muffled broken explanation came as a jumbled angry rant, "I choose."

He just laughed a cruel coarse little sound.

Omega's had become rare, that made them a valuable commodity that the Alphas in power took as if it was their due. And in a city that attracted aggressive Alphas like Gotham, she'd be stuck in a life of feigning being a Beta just to live unmolested. Spent a small fortune on heat suppressants, locked herself away with the other few celibates she knew when heats came. Hidden in plain sight before Bane's occupation, Claire had been forced underground the very next day when the prisoners began to challenge for dominance and hormones began to rage. Those awful men just took any Omega they could find; killing mates, and children to keep the women and breed them or fuck them until they died.

"What is your name, little one?"

She opened her eyes again, elated that he was listening. "Claire."

"How many of you are there, Claire?"

Trying to focus on a spot on the wall, instead of the large male and his obviously engorged cock, she turned her head to where her body craved to nest, staring with hunger at the collection of colorful blankets, the pillows, everything that must be saturated in his spicy scent of his bed.

A low vibration, the extended growl of a wolf, "You are losing your focus, little one. How many?"

She was not even sure if she spoke, her mind was too full of the shudder he'd just created, "Less than a hundred... We lose more every day."

"You're hungry." It was not a question, but spoken with such a low vibration that his hunger for _her_ was apparent.

"Yessss," it was almost a whine, and it wasn't for food.

The prolonged answering growl of the beast compelled a gush of slick to wet her so badly she may as well have peed herself. Doubling over, frustrated and needy, she sobbed, "Please, don't make that noise," and immediately the growl changed pitch. Bane began to purr for her.

There was something so infinitely soothing in that low rumble that she sighed audibly, and did not bolt at his slow measured approach. She was looking at him with such attention, her huge green rimmed dilated pupils a clear mark that she was so very close to falling completely into estrous. Even crouched down so low, he towered over her, all bulging muscle and musky sweat. She tried to say the words, "_Only instincts..."_ but jumbled them so badly their meaning was lost.

Starting with the scarf he unwound the items that tainted her beautiful pheromones, purring and stroking every time she whimpered or shifted nervously. When he pulled her forward to take away the coat, her eyes were level with his pulsing cock, her uncovered nose sniffed automatically at the place where his crotch had grown damp with a spot with pre-come. The fire ignited, the abject craving... at that moment all she wanted, all that she had ever wanted, was to be fucked, knotted, and bred by that male.

_Only instincts..._

Bane pressed his mask to her neck and sucked in a long breath of her, groaning as his cock jumped and began to leak more to please her. He had gone into the rut, there was no changing that fact, and with it came a powerful need to see the female filled with seed; to sooth what was driving her to rub against her hand in such a frenzy.

The words were almost lost in her breath. "You need to lock me in a room for a few days..."

A feral grin spread under the mask, "You are locked in a room, little one, with the Alpha who killed ten men and two of his own soldiers to bring you here." He stroked her hair, petting her because something inside told him his hands could calm her down. "It's too late now. You little defiant celibacy is over. Either you submit willingly to me and I will rut you through your heat, or you may leave out that door where my men will, no doubt, mount you in the halls once they smell you."

A knock came to the door and Bane rose up tall before her, staring down with open demand that she submit and obey. Extending the look, establishing dominance, he went to the door and pulled back the lock. Claire saw the same soldier, the smaller Beta with the beard, and found him sniffing the air at her, growing excited at the intoxicating blend of pheromones her slick and sweat was pumping into the air.

Bane was right. He had taken her from what would have been a gang bang, saved her from damage and most likely death. He'd listened, though not answered her, and his men were already salivating in the hall. All the understanding of the situation passed openly across her face. Claire nodded, the estrous clouding her judgment.

Something was muttered between the men, ending in, "Only Betas on guard."

A tray was handed over, laden with food, another armful piled with bedding and pillows, and she went white. They had already known Bane would have her and prepared accordingly... the little chat had no purpose but to make her think she had a choice. He saw her expression and the rumble of his purring returned, along with a strange languid quality in his eyes... like a resting tiger that might rip your throat out at any minute.

She had to eat... he had to feed her, that was his duty. The tray was set on the floor beside her, his purring loud and demanding. "Eat."

As she picked at the food he began to undress. There were so many layers, each carefully removed and organized, the man having no shame about the state of his scarred body or the jutting cock proudly on display. It was the smell, the scent of a rutting Alpha, aroused and swollen for her, that made reason seem to completely leave her mind. Everything hummed in that incessant purr, reminding her that he was what her body needed, and she was salivating for it... and scared.

Bane began to pace, naked and rolling his shoulders as he prowled, all the while watching her and sniffing the air over and over through the vent of his mask. "Eat more... drink the water."

"I don't want any more food!" Her voice was downright nasty, threatening, and the way she'd spoken surprised her.

There was some fog in her angry confusion, a thing that was supposed to happen. He was supposed to be fucking her. Why was he waiting? Feeling stronger, she came to her feet and he was there, the dominate male growling so loud that she froze, her eyes rolling back in her skull, as the tubes of his mask dug into the skin of her neck. A rending of fabric, tugs, preceded cool air over fevered skin.

He was all around her, taking away such unnecessary things like clothing. The smell of him, the raw sweat, sent her cunt to seeping. Bane sucked in great panting breaths of the fertile Omega, sought out to stroke the curves of her form, a bit surprised all her body hair had been removed, recognizing again the precaution the Omega had taken to help mask her scent.

She was so far gone, her little tongue already licking at his skin, completely high on the taste and smell, that when his finger swiped up his leaking pre-come and ran it over her lips she moaned loudly and sucked it deep into her mouth.

She was so small compared to his mass, easy to move where he wanted. Her back hit the bed, Bane standing between her spread legs, staring down with wide hungry eyes at the river of slick that seemed to come forth. With one hand on her chest, petting the twisting thing, he pressed forward, breaching her slippery womb and gave a full body shudder at the sound of her desperate cry.

The woman had not lied... she was so tight it made his cock pulsate out more fluid to aid her. He only got half way before she began to whine and squirm. Alphas were big and Bane was the biggest. His girth was massive and there was only so much space inside her body.

"Open for me, little one," Bane growled, using his thumbs to stretch her lower lips, thrusting forward, gaining hard earned inch by inch while the female watched a cock the size of her forearm slowly disappear inside her.

When the expanding thrust bottomed out, when all the tightness enveloped that hard length... utter bliss... that's all Claire's brain could register in the fog. She needed it, was moaning and arching, grinding her hips against his pubic bone. The stretch was divine... the vibration from his purrs, the _smell_. When he began to pull out she showed her teeth and snarled at the man six times her size. He seemed amused, and then snapped his hips, burying that massive cock again.

Claire learned quickly that he liked her little spurts of temper but it was Bane who dominated the exchange. He rutted with the vigor she needed, hard and fast, building up that furious pulse in her core. When she began to roll her hips, eyes closed and lost in the insatiable need to fuck, he took her by the scruff of the neck and barked at her to open, to look at the male fucking her, to recognize his prowess.

Those harshly snarled words sent her over the edge, perfect fulfillment exploded; she felt every single muscle in her pussy jump to life and milk that cock. Saw his eyes grow vicious and feral, felt his knot expand as he ground in, hooking behind her pelvic bone, locked them as deep as he could go. Jerking under the intensity of the orgasm, she felt that first hot gush of semen, heard him roar like a beast while she screamed. Bane came again, more of that copious fluid, her body's need finally met, and then his third liquid surge and she blacked out.

It could not have been long before she woke, as his knot was still binding their bodies together, but he had shifted them. He lay below her, her body sprawled on top, ear to his heart. The serenity from the mating was fading and the impulse to fuck was back again. The urge, the only thing that defined her at that moment, grew beyond her body when her tongue darted out to lick the salt of sweat from his chest, and entice the male to begin again.

There was so much fluid, she felt his seed leaking out of her and whined at it. As if knowing her thoughts, Bane dragged his fingers in the little river and brought his come to her mouth. The smell alone drove her wild, the taste a thousand times more.

"They would have broken an Omega so small," Bane explained quietly as if educating a female that should have known better, while she greedily sucked his fingers. "Not shown restraint at a scent so overpowering."

She didn't want him to talk, she wanted him to fuck her again. A large hand came to her hair, rubbing at the scalp of the female, soothing her with pets and purr while the knot slowly abated and he could thrust against her jerking hips.

The second mating was much less frantic, far more fulfilling, and when he had filled her again, Claire began to lose the edge that was making her so ferocious. It was his hands, maybe, lifting and lowering her at the tempo that made her cunt sing, or the look in his eyes, the unabashed lustful pleasure.

_So this is what it was to mate with an Alpha_.

He seemed once again to know her thoughts and by the crinkles at the corner of Bane's eyes she could tell he was smirking at her. He cupped her face, tender and gentle, and she didn't feel overpowered and forced... she felt mistakenly safe in the delirium.

It was not until days later that he took her from behind at the peak of her estrous, his full weight on her back, that she sensed trouble. The high had not faded, the slow building fervor of her heat was nowhere near breaking... but he roared, began to squeeze and bruise; to mark her. If the mask had not been between them, Claire was certain he would have bitten her so savagely it would have scarred- leaving claiming marks. And worst of all, instinctively she wanted him too. Her estrous high mind wanted to bond to the monster that had destroyed Gotham and made her life hell simple because he was the one who was fucking her.

"And you will!" he growled at her ear.

There was a click, a hiss of gas that she barely registered over her own gasps, and the sound of his skin slapping against her backside. Sharp teeth came to her shoulder, Bane's knot growing bulbous until the Alpha could no longer thrust and she could not squirm away. She screamed in pain and pleasure, sobbing as he ripped his teething into her skin and grunted.

She climaxed from the claiming, rhythmically squeezing, drawing the jets of fluid from his dick, while he crooned at her and lapped up the blood for as long as he could keep off the mask.

Claire cried even as he purred and petted, wept from the hazy recognition of the total loss of control she'd so carefully cultivated in her life. When ten minutes later her body sent out signals it was time for Bane to fuck her again, he pulled her beneath him and was gentle, caressing the woman he'd stolen even though tears fell from her eyes through the whole thing.

When it was over, when he had wrung out another explosion that chased away the urge of chemical madness, a calm descended on them both. Claire briefly slept against a man she did not know, pressing as close as she could, in the exact place he expected her to be.

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In the end it took three days to break the little Omegas heat. She was sleeping, nesting deep into the blankets covered in his semen and her slick, blissed out. Toying with a strand of her sooty black hair, Bane seemed to be mulling over just what to do with what was now his. The thing was plucky enough to dress in corpse's clothes and parade into a pack of Alphas just to speak to him... and she would have died if he had not found her smell worth killing for.

Claire would also be sore, Bane knew, now that the estrous had ended and her mind was not clouded with the insatiable drive to mate. He was certain she would also be resentful of the binding he'd forced... but that was the lot for Omegas, the way of nature. He wanted her, he took. End of story.

Grey eyes ran over the lithe dancer's body she possessed, growling at the obvious fact his Omega was underfed. It was getting him into such a mood that when a knock came to the door, Bane possessively grabbed what was his and roared.

The commotion, being jerked against a mountain of heat, woke Claire, and she hissed in discomfort. Everything felt sticky, and the male was pawing her over bruises that did not appreciate the attention. The words he spat out where in another language, Arabic she thought half-awake, in answer to another voice behind the door. Pushing against his chest, needing space, she only felt his arms grow tighter.

The conversation went on, her trapped and annoyed. When it was over, the masked face swung around, grey eyes burning.

"You need to sleep more." It was not a suggestion and she could clearly sense he was provoked with her attempt to pull away.

"The Omegas." That was the reason she had come to him... not to have him knot her for three full days.

Grey eyes narrowed, he seemed to sniff her once, then Bane growled, "Your idea for a food truck would only draw attention. They will all be moved to Blackgate and kept in detention from the rest of the population. Should any come into heat, an Alpha will be available. Most will probably be bonded at their next estrous."

"What? No." Claire's voice was pure horror. "That's not what we want. They need food, not to be made into slaves."

"This is best. You are Omegas, fragile, and it is not your place to decide such things."

Everything about the male was suddenly repulsive. Claire wanted him off of her and tried to back away. A lifetime of such inequality had made her bitter and it was clear when she spat, "You came to Gotham to free the people, you said. To create justice, you said. You lied."

"I did," he admitted, smirking under the mask.

"I won't tell you where they are."

"Then they will starve and be picked off one by one. That is your decision, little one. If given to me they would be protected."

"From whom?... the very men who are raping and knotting young girls who have not even reached maturity are your militia of prisoners and bullies."

He was petting her, touching her hair as if she was not upset, as if she didn't loath him in that moment, and it was setting her into a fury. When she tried to bat his hand away he snarled and pinned her beneath him in a fluid movement. The mask went to the crook of her neck and he smelled, growling at the sweetness.

Claire felt his cock pulsing against her leg and grew frightened. There was no estrous, no abundant slick, and she was sore. Bane didn't care. He reminded her who was dominant in one sharp thrust, taking his Omega with no purrs or caresses, knotting without her climax to urge his seed forth. When the powerful spurts bathed her womb there was no settling peace, only frustration and tears.

When he seemed to have caught his breath, the metal tubing of his mask pressed to her ear. "You will sleep more."

His fingers went back to toying with her hair while Claire cried herself to sleep, embraced by a man who certainly lived up to his reputation as a monster.

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**Reviews are welcome**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

It was dark the next time she woke and Bane was not physically there... but he was still humming inside her. The new bond stuck like a greasy string to her ribcage... burrowing deeper. Claire had only heard descriptions of the pair-bond and read about it online. Each Omega experienced it differently, some compared it to a wellspring, an endless offering of cool water, others to a knife wound that tore and twisted their insides. Hers felt like a worm, writhing and going deeper; a subjugation, and a leash. She already hated it. It was unwelcome, invasive, and something that she could not ignore.

At that moment it hummed in an off-putting out of tune twang. Like a bad note on a violin.

Feeling her way around the walls in search of a switch, she stumbled into unfamiliar furniture and cursed. The feeling of the bathroom door came under her fingers. She went inside and flicked on the light. It was her own reflection she saw first.

Naked and so covered in his semen that it was caked in her hair, she was shattered. Looking back at the hazy blissful memory of the frenzy, she remembered. He'd fed it to her, rubbed into her skin, saturated her inside and out with that viscous liquid. If Bane had not spent so much time running his fingers through her hair, she was certain it would have been a matted mess. Even so, seeing it now, it was gross, and she reeked of Alpha's seed.

With a small cringe, Claire walked closer to the stranger in the mirror. She had become so thin since she'd last seen her body reflected back at her, her ribs protruded, the bones of her hips stuck out... and the occupation had only been in force for six weeks. An Omega's metabolism shut down during estrous, food being the last thing on their minds, and that too had taken a toll on her. But it was not the emaciation that won her attention, it was the enflamed bite mark on her shoulder. The swollen red scabs throbbed and were tender to the touch. He had bit her so deeply she would carry the scar of his claiming forever.

Tracing a finger over the two crescents of scabs, Claire realized that even now she didn't fully understand exactly how the bond was formed. She knew it involved marking and an Alpha's initiation of the act, but she had been so caught in the delirium of estrous that the subtleties of the ritual had slipped past her. Maybe it was just instinct.

_Only instincts..._

A deep sinking despair was growing in her belly, made worse by that still thrumming string her body was trying to reject. She pulled in a deep breath and scanned the rest of the simple bathroom. Either the man was fastidiously tidy or he had an underling clean for him. The sink was gleaming white, the mirror polished without even a speck of toothpaste on it.

Opening the medicine cabinet it was almost bizarre to find such ordinary things like a toothbrush and mouthwash. It was the mask maybe, as far as she could remember he had never taken it off except to enforce the pair-bond with claiming marks. Obviously he had teeth... the idea almost made her snort a bitter laugh.

Waffling between using his toothbrush to get the fuzzy feeling out of her mouth and disgusted because it was _his_ toothbrush, she just reached for the damn thing. A few minutes later her mouth no longer tasted like... things she didn't want to think about. Setting it on the shelf in the exact position she found it in, Claire turned toward the shower and cranked it on.

Stepping under a scalding stream, Claire invited the burn, she wanted everything Bane off of her. Eyes closed and with her hair under the water she just let it pour like lava over her body. The puncture wounds at her shoulder started to ooze, the scabs softening from the moisture; she didn't care. There was only a basic bar of soap, no shampoo... which made sense as the man shaved his head. There had been only sponge bathes in the last weeks, scrubbing and rinsing with freezing water to reduce her scent, and even though her body was near collapsing, the hot shower felt really good.

Every possible inch was scrubbed until her skin was raw, every trace of that man and his smell stripped away. She soaped up her hair, dreaming of the days she'd had access to such simple things as conditioner that smelled like raspberries. When it was done, she stepped out of the steam, looking at the man's towel, and chose not to use anything of his that might reapply his scent to her skin.

Skin bumped from the cold, she air-dried, wring out her hair over the sink, trying her best to finger comb the sooty black mess into order. Paranoid, she wiped down all traces of her time in that room, leaving it as close to how she found it as she could.

With the light from the bathroom streaming into the cell of Bane's den, Claire found a table lamp and switched it on. In estrous, her mind had not focused on paltry things such as furniture placement and decoration, all she saw was where she wanted to nest and the male she expected to mount her.

It felt like she'd lost a part of herself to know that she had been mated and not by a male she chose. After all the years of careful seclusion, all the tortured heat cycles locked away to prevent such a thing. The effort was wasted and she was somehow less, felt like a failure.

That humming little cord in her chest pulsed, reminding that she was more... that there was more now. _Bane had only done what was supposed to be done._ The plaguing vibration was making her angry. Desperate, she grasped at straws; the pair-bond was still new, was fragile, maybe she could break it?

_How often had every other forcefully bonded Omega wished for the same thing? _

It was almost laughable how quickly that little cord in her chest hummed that she should accept her position, be resigned and submit to such a strong Alpha. The feeling made her want to vomit.

It was unsettling. The change in him from the coercive beginning to the unquestioned authoritarian frightened her. He had forced a pair-bond, made a choice that would impact her forever. Alphas and Omegas only bonded once, except for extreme cases when their mates died. It was the Betas that lived without the bond, it was the Betas Claire had always envied. Their heats were farther apart, and they could still bear children, but they got to choose. They mated, some even with the same partner for a lifetime, but it was not from some device of nature that forced a permanent pairing. And Beta females were treated with the same respect as Beta males.

Betas were also second on the hierarchy; they had freedoms to do as they pleased with their lives. Omegas, so rare in the last century, had been relegated to a prestige almost of a prized pet, a status symbol for powerful Alphas to claim. They were smaller, no less intelligent, but as their numbers were decreasing it was an easy minority for the rest of the world to force into some archaic ideal. The Alphas ruled. Were supreme in every country, every city, every powerful business, and there were a lot more of them than there were Omegas.

Looking over the dim room, ignoring the nest she'd built between sessions of being fucked, Claire wondered at the man. Spartan was not exactly the right word for what she saw... maybe utilitarian was better. Only the basics existed: a bed, desk, a small table, and a few other useful pieces of furniture, all mismatching, none chosen for anything other than practicality. Then there was the bookcase. Stepping barefoot over the concrete floor, she looked at the titles, several of which were in different languages, and found his collection of literature... surprising. These were the books of an intellectual and had clearly been read more than once. He had Tolstoy and Nietzsche, Machiavelli, Goethe, Dickens, even the written word of Maya Angelou and Nelson Mandela. The man was absolutely bonkers. There were so many clashing ideals all stacked orderly on those shelves, and that was not even including the titles to books she could not read.

Her limbs were shaky from the toll taken on her body during estrous as she reached out and traced her finger over the spines. It was cold in that subterranean windowless space. A quick shiver and Claire abandoned her exploration of his shelf and sought out her clothes... only to find that every last shredded piece was long gone.

She would rather face his wrath for wearing his clothing without permission than wait around naked like an odalisque. Digging through the room's modest dresser, Claire found a long sleeved sweater that would pass for a dress on her much smaller frame. Pulling the reddish brown thing over her head, she was pleased that it seemed clean and only held the faintest trace of his scent. The sleeves were rolled up so her hands were not covered and the fabric was warm, though it only covered her to mid-thigh. Still, it was far better than being naked.

Stomach rumbling, she began to pace, her eyes inadvertently looking toward the part of the room so saturated in their combined scents, her nest. Claire had built them before in seclusion; it was an obsessive part of the heat-cycle, everything arranged just so. Blankets, pillows, all forming the shape that best suited the Omega, that made the females, or in the rare exception the Omega was male, feel safe. The idea of nests had always been fascinating to her, the way she just knew exactly where every piece should fit.

The nest she'd built had been saturated when she woke in it, sticking to her skin, almost all of the fabric covered in semen, slick, and sweat; a thing that had been pleasing when the chemical high was raging, but now just seemed dirty.

Betas didn't nest. And base Alphas, or so she'd heard, would mount any Omega without allowing the nest, in a frenzy to begin the seeding. Proper Alphas understood the necessity. Bane had let her build it, had supplied extra blankets and materials aside from the usual things already on the bed. He'd even tried to help, crouched naked at her side, tugging fabric, and fluffing pillows to hand to her. When he became too involved she'd snarled and pushed his hands away. The nest was her job; he was an Alpha, his only job was to fuck her in it.

Frowning, Claire looked away from the creation. The door was in her line of sight, one metal blockade between her and air that did not stink of sex. Pacing again, she tried to steady the wave of strange agitation in her gut. The lack of windows, not knowing if it was day or night, it was itching uncomfortably under her skin. She did not even know where in relation to the city she was. The longer she was walking the length of the room the more she wanted out of it until she began to freak out.

Panic, it was panic that made her do it. She ran to the door and tried the knob, knowing it would be locked, but needing to feel the immovable metal with her own fingers. The cry she made was unavoidable; a sad little thing of someone who hoped that unicorns might be real only to learn there was no magic in the world. She was a prisoner, bound to a man she did not know, hungry, scared, and suffering an unwelcome thread that would not stop existing no matter how hard she willed it away.

By the time her captor returned, Claire was stretched out on the floor, staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes, worn out from the anxious pacing... saturated in apathy.

"You have been distressed," he grunted sniffing the air. "Because you are hungry?"

Blinking at the ceiling, wondering if he could feel just what she was thinking at that moment, Claire glanced past his tree trunk legs to the door that was now unlocked and imagined just for a second that she was making a run for it. That freedom was hers.

"I see," he growled, eyes narrowed to slits.

Claire admitted in a breath, "I am very hungry."

Crouching down over her, Bane wondered at just what on earth she was doing. Her green eye shifted under a little scowl to look at him, her lips pouting when he ran his fingers through her drying hair. "You woke sooner than I anticipated."

There were a million things she wanted to shout, instead all she did was give a bored sigh, "I don't know what time of day it is."

"It is the noon hour. Food will arrive shortly."

"Grand." Her eyes went back to the grey ceiling.

The male was still crouching over her, going so far as to run his fingers over her lips. "Do you have any desire to mate?"

"I do not," she answered quickly, frightened at the memory of his last dominate mating; fighting the urge to scoot away, certain it will only entice him to chase and do it again.

Small crinkles formed at his eyes and she imagined that under that mask he was smug. The softest of purrs began, and in answer, her scowl somewhat lessened. The unconscious reaction annoyed her, even more so when his hand burrowed into her hair, tugging gently at the roots of her scalp, and her eyes automatically closed at the wave of contentment that came with each little tug. When a sharp knock came to the door minutes later, she was a puddle on the floor.

Bane called for the bearded Beta to enter, continuing to pet his female while his soldier set out a tray. Claire wondered if he did it just to make a point to another nearby male, to be possessive, or if he did it simple because it seemed to appease her. Probably both.

They were alone again and the masked giant gave her a nudge to open her eyes and cocked his head toward the table. "Eat."

He insisted on helping her stand, making her touch him more than she wanted. Glancing at the delicious smelling tray, Claire found that there was only food for her. Throughout the meal he removed his armor and watched her as one watches prey, noticed the minutia of her movements. She didn't like canned green beans but she ate what was given, she hummed at the ham, the glass of milk made her smile just a little. There was a pill on the side of the tray, a thing she had seen then forgotten, too caught up in an actual warm meal.

Bane's large fingers pinched it and held it out for her to take.

"What is that?" Claire asked, covering her full mouth as she spoke.

"A vitamin. You are deficient in many nutrients from the estrous."

There was no point in arguing. Whether it was a vitamin or poison, if he wanted her to take it it would be a simple thing for him to force.

As she was swallowing the vitamin, Bane said, "The blue pills you had in your coat pocket. Do you know what they were?"

Her lip curled and she growled, "They were supposed to be heat suppressants. Cost me a week's worth of food, and I had been taking them for days before I came to City Hall to beg for your help. Clearly, they didn't work and you didn't help either, so... as far as I see it they were a bad joke."

Reaching for her free hand across the table, Bane wrapped his great paw around her wrist... but did nothing else. All he need do was squeeze and her bones would be crushed and broken. That was her subtle warning to watch her tongue.

Tracing his thumb over her pulse, Bane explained, "I had a lab analyze your pills. They were quite the opposite, little one. Designed to start your heat-cycle."

Opposite? Fertility drugs... Other girls from their hidden compound had been taking those pills... dozens of the Omegas could have gone into heat unexpectedly, exposed, just as she had been. That was exactly the point he was trying to make. With her head in her hand she heard him outline precisely what she was already thinking.

"Someone clever is using your needs to hunt down the Omegas, knowing the females taking those pills will anticipate their effectiveness and go into heat out in the open... And like you, they will be mobbed, hunted down, or taken."

"That's barbaric. You men are so fucking evil..." she muttered, growing upset, still hiding her face in her hand.

Bane knew it was a generalized collective of males she referred to, not him specifically, and did not allow more than a hint of anger to come through his voice. "Where did you get them?"

After a deep breath, she admitted, "From the same men peddling drugs on the corners, anyone has access to them. I approached as a Beta, covered in the smell of another."

"The smell of another?"

"Those who are brave and strong enough to leave our hiding place steal the clothes from the dead rotting on the streets... use their scent to hide our own. As you must have noticed when I came to you. It is unpleasant but we need supplies, we need food, we do what we have to to survive."

"Why was a young female chosen to approach City Hall and not someone older with less chance of entering estrous or attracting attention?" Bane asked directly.

"I volunteered."

"Why?"

"I am healthier than most of the others, have lived for years passing as a Beta, and trusted to think objectively for the collective as I have no mate or children."

"You have a mate," he reminded her, reaching across the table to brush the sore bite mark he'd left on her shoulder. "I claimed you. You belong to me now."

Her stomach churned and Claire worried her lip, lowering her hand to look in his steady grey eyes she whispered, "You could change your mind."

For a spit second his eyes seemed a little disappointed then viciously determined. "I am not an impulsive man. I made a decision. What was done was done; I claimed you, you are mine now, that is all."

"But you don't even know me..." she tried to explain, knowing that the man could care less about something so inconsequential as the personality of a female that would be compelled by the bond to be his mate. Her wishes no longer mattered.

In a low sensual purr he explained, "It's amazing the things you learn about the female writhing on your cock for three days."

Blushing up to her roots, Claire hid her face back in her hand. He hooked a finger under her chin and brought her flushed expression up to examine. Tracing the pink on her cheeks, he said, "For example, that you were pure... had not wasted yourself on the first Alpha to cross you in a heat. You also have a very strong will for a member of a submissive collective."

"It's not submission if you're forced!" she snarled, looking up to see anger cloud his eyes.

The way he spoke, the low mechanical distorted words, brought back all the fear, "If you had behaved I would not have punished you."

"I didn't want you to touch me..."

With eyes still dangerously narrowed, he leaned across the table until they were nose to mask. "I will touch you when I wish, anyway I wish."

All the accumulating stress, the horror, the rage just made her snap. "I do not want to be tied to a brute, to be pawed at and raped by a stranger; especially a male who wants me to sell my kind into some sort of harem for his men!" Claire could hardly believe she had screamed her feelings out loud and instantly pressed her hand over her mouth, staring at the seething male with frightened eyes.

There was no question of what was coming next. Bane stood and plucked her from her seat, returning to the nest they had created in her heat. He ripped the stolen shirt from over her head and already began to peel out of his remaining clothing.

It was unfair how easily he could subdue her, and Claire was pressed naked into the cold sticky wet fabric, trembling, but too proud to apologize or beg. It would have been pointless anyway. Bane's naked weight came upon her, his hand cupping one swollen breast, tweaking the nipple until the fluid only produced by a pleased Omega during her heat cycle beaded at the tip. It was a thing Alphas lapped at, drank deeply of, their reward for an excellent performance, and hers had been wasted because of the mask. That fact that that little pearl of sweet fluid existed was proof that she had been pleasured by Bane. Proof she had been pleased.

He put it on his finger and pressed it between her lips, growling so low it might have been the voice of a monster, "Raped? You screamed and begged, little one. You scratched and snarled if I did not fuck you when you wanted to be mounted. Have you forgotten, shall I remind you?"

Bane's hand left her mouth to dip between her legs his thick thighs had spread open. She was dry as a desert, until he pressed his chest to hers, put his mask at her ear, and let out the slow animal growl that had caused her to gush when she first entered her heat. The folds grew slick, as her body instinctually answered the call of her Alpha. He tugged and teased her lower lips, spreading her secretion, circling the nub of nerves at the apex of her sex while the Omega writhed to get away. She was twitching each time he pinched her little bud, so frustrated and outraged that when his cock was jammed inside her she screamed. It came out as far more than just aggravated anger, it was positively dripping with the unwanted hunger the growls and touches her paired Alpha forced on her.

Holding her hands pinned by her head, Bane began to pump his hips, his grey eyes locked on hers. He made that growl again, felt her juices around his cock, just to show the bound Omega her body was his. Each thrust filled that slippery vice, stretching and making the thread hum with a sense of completion. When it was too much, when Claire could not hold back the waves of compelled ecstasy, she called out her hatred, cursed him to the pits of hell, all between pleasured gasps and long groans. Bane just laughed, darkly amused at such taunts, the low evil noise vibrating between them, and fucked her harder, snapping his hips deep, the way he knew the little Omega liked best.

With a wanton moan she came, still calling out obscenities, full of coerced rapture until only his name was on her lips.

_"Bane..."_

The knot grew, his cock forced as deep as it could go, and her muscles began to draw out his seed, clenching rhythmically as he grunted like a beast and spurted thick ropes of white come over and over until she was pooling with the stuff.

He had made his point far stronger with his actions than he could have with words. While the knot persisted, he looked into her disoriented fearful eyes and demanded roughly, "Whose name did you call as you came?"

Claire could hardly breath, was on the ebb of a powerful climax that shook her to her bones. Brokenly, she whispered, trying not to cry, "Yours."

"Because _I_ am your Alpha," it was almost a roar, "You _want_ to be fucked by me! Do you understand?"

Shaking her head in the negative, her lower lip quivering, Claire spoke the truth, "I don't understand."

He did not even seem fazed by the challenge. Bane simply growled, "Then allow me to show you again."

Once the knot subsided, he took her gently, coaxing and stroking, the thrusts of his dick slow and calculating. He played her body like a violin, drew out every possible sound a pleased female could make, gave her the type of orgasm that builds slow and burns long, watching her as a cat watches a mouse hole.

It continued for hours as he stripped away all her petty convictions, until she was too exhausted to fight back, until her hands began to reach for him in her bond and sex induced daze, to stroke his back and trace the line of the scars down his spine. When his point had been made, Bane held her against him and purred as he petted, rewarding the wayward Omega for coming to heel.

* * *

Bane could call it whatever he wanted, animal impulse, compulsion of biology, necessity of the bond... to Claire it was still rape. She hated herself each time he coerced her to softly murmur his name in the dark, or reached out a hand to stroke the bulge of his muscle.

It was the same every day. Bane was almost constantly buried inside her womb. He took her when he woke, after she ate, roughly if she seemed irritable. And he always made her climax... Simply to prove that he could. It left her boneless and complacent, shut off the mind that was screaming at her to remember herself.

And the damn purr, Bane exercised it expertly when she paced in frustration or fussed.

Time became irrelevant. Claire was not even sure how long she had been down there, if it had been days or weeks. Anytime she wanted to know the time she had to ask, and it eventually grew to be confusing with the hours she'd started to keep. Night was day, day was night; everything was turned around.

And even the arrival of meals seemed not to follow a set pattern, though she was never hungry for long. Bane was feeding her so much, in fact, that it seemed sacrilegious when she could not always finish the meal. The man was fattening her up.

Random things had arrived in the room for her use: Shampoo, conditioner, a hair brush, clothing of a sort... all summer dresses... but no shoes or underwear. When Bane was gone she slept, and almost the instant she woke he returned. It was odd, like he knew, like he felt it on his side of the thread. And always, before words were spoken, he took off his armor and clothing, came to the bed, and lay with her.

Claire knew nothing about the man, but had memorized every inch of his body: the placement of scars, the smoothness of his skin, spots where if she licked or bit would make him purr or growl accordingly. And she knew how every part of him tasted. None of the attention was out of affection; it was just part of the spell he would build. And she had never once kissed him anywhere. That was one thing he couldn't take and couldn't force.

His expressions were another study, as he conveyed so very much with his steel grey eyes. Claire was learning to read his moods by their subtle shifts. When he arrived angry, his eyes blazing and flared over something she had no knowledge of, Bane almost always mounted her from behind, hard and fast, roaring when he came. When he seemed his version of mellow, it was slow touches while he watched her face. What she saw then, the calculation, the intense concentration... it frightened her more; like he was dissecting her piece by piece... A little pressure here, a little tug there... and poof, no more Claire.

She never saw him without the mask. She never saw him eat, and the door to the bathroom was locked if he was in there to bathe... unless of course he was bathing her, which seemed to be something he enjoyed and would do almost daily. Once she was clean he would rut immediately. Sometimes against the wall in the shower, as if he could not wait another second to put his scent back on her.

It felt like her vocabulary had been reduced to only soft gasps or screams of, "_Bane..."_ That's what he coaxed out. "_Bane..."_ Another part of her died... "_Bane..."_

Laying spread on top of him, not knowing the hour or day of the week, she felt the anchor of his knot locked inside her and suddenly began to weep as if her heart was breaking.

With his hand stroking her hair, Bane hummed half asleep, "Why are you crying, little one?"

She was crying because he was killing her.

He hushed her and wiped the tears even as they continued to fall. "What would please you?"

"I want to go outside," she sobbed against his chest, so very tired of those four walls. "I need to see the sky."

There was no answer for a moment, only the sound of his mechanical breathing. "Once you have become more settled in your new life it may be allowed on occasion, but only under escort and only if you have a bellyful of my seed to scent you."

So she would be expected to mate with him just to leave the room... the exploitation was not missed. Her tears dried and her usual distracted dejection made the little string buzz out of tune. Brokenly she muttered, "I have done nothing wrong and you have trapped me in prison."

Bane felt her resentment through the thin formed cord, traced the line of her spine as he considered her opinion of prison and how it was so far from the actual truth. His little Omega should be grateful. Life could be a whole lot worse for her. "It isn't safe for you outside this room."

Half aware of what she was saying, Claire lay lifelessly and muttered, "The city is not safe because you made it that way..."

Grey eyes were focused on the strands of midnight hair running though his fingers, "That is true."

"Why did you do it?" She had a feeling she would not like the answer.

It was said so simply. "To bring balance to the world."

With her cheek pressed to his heart she answered, "You're insane."

She felt a bit of a rumbling chuckle, and just ignored him.

"You have not been this conversational in some time, little one."

"If I start talking you throw me on the bed... what's the point?"

"I only quiet you when you fret."

"Like I said... crazy."

The knot was slowly beginning to loosen, his seed spilling out once the barrier receded. Feeling the gratuitous amount of come the Alpha left in its wake drip from her womb, she drummed her fingers on his barrel chest, mind caught between frustration and the influence he was exacting through purrs and strokes, and of course the damn bond.

"Resisting is pointless," the male grunted, stroking her back to quietness when she seemed to want to wiggle away.

Resigned, she stilled, was rewarded with a purr, and felt like the man thought he could train her like a dog.

"You will find, in time, that the arrangement will continue to naturally grow on you, little one." He spoke as if he knew, as if he were absolute. "Exercise patience."

"My name is Claire," she answered defiantly against his naked chest, her voice a little louder.

He smacked her backside almost playfully, but still hard enough to sting.

Angry, she looked up at him again, green eyes blazing, and he just laughed at her. It was the first time she'd heard anything but a caustic chuckle from the man. It was masculine and musical, and thoroughly entertained... She hated it.

"Don't spank me like a child!"

Grey eyes sparkling above the mask, he refuted, "If you act like one than I will answer accordingly."

"My name _is_ Claire. Claire O'Donnell, and before you unleashed hell in Gotham I was a writer, I had a life and friends... my own home... things you must imagine an Omega worked very hard to achieve in a world where we are prized for mates but lowest in the hierarchy. You took all that away, stripped every one of us of what we were, made the masses so feral that I had to go into hiding. You might have me trapped but I will _always_ be Claire."

Seemingly unconcerned with her rant, Bane stroked over the curve of her hip, "What did you write?"

Scowling, she answered bluntly, "Children's books."

"Given your previous celibacy it seems a bit ironic, don't you think, Miss O'Donnell?"

"Why? Because I didn't breed with the first Alpha who sniffed me? I wanted to find a good mate and the men in this city tend to be..." her eyes held his as she spoke her feelings, "... pretty terrible."

Bane's expression was not hard, the grey stayed soft and languid, but in a growl he explained harshly, "You chose to enter City Hall. You exposed yourself at great risk. You must have known you would never be allowed to return once I knew what you were."

"I was hoping the leader of men would have honor," Claire admitted begrudgingly.

His voice was almost lazy, hissing from the mask, "And I did the honorable thing, did I not? I fought a mob and saved you from violent rape. I gave you a choice, you chose me and I claimed you. Since then you have been protected and cared for while others suffer outside these walls."

"A choice?" she practically choked on the word. "My heat addled brain was nothing but hormones when you offered either yourself or the men panting outside the door. You pair-bonded with me without even courting me first... There was no choice."

"You wish me to court you?" he seemed intrigued.

The brute was either totally missing the point or completely disregarding her accusation. Growling in frustration, she just buried her head and tried to pretend that he was not there, that his cock was not growing flaccid inside her, and that that damn hum was not in her chest.

* * *

It was three days later, at least she though it was three days, when she woke up to find something sitting on the bedside table. Resting innocently was a large sketchpad, two brushes, and a set of watercolor paints. The new things were like a magnet; she rolled out of bed toward them and snatched them up greedily. Yesterday's dress was pulled over her head and within minutes Claire was laying on her belly on the floor, the paints mixed and the beginnings of a view coming alive on the paper.

She spent hours rendering her favorite flowers, red poppies, drenching them in sunshine under a blue sky, with her feet kicking back and forth in the air behind her.

"So you did do the illustrations in your books."

Practically jumping out of her skin, Claire yelped, looking over her shoulder at the man standing just behind her, "Jesus! You scared me!"

She had been so wrapped up in her task she had not even heard the whine of the door... and had completely missed his usually loud mechanical breaths. Hand pressed to her heart, she tried to quench the flow of adrenaline, demanding, "How long have you been standing there?"

"An hour," Bane answered, kneeling at her side to look closer at the well-done painting.

Narrowing her eyes, she looked back to her work, but he reached for it to hold it closer to his face. Lying on her belly with the man crouched so close was making her nervous. Going to her knees, she observed him run his grey eyes over the paper, unnerved that he had been watching her without her knowledge.

Reaching for the paints and brushes, Claire scooped them up to carefully clean in the bathroom before the giant stepped on them or got in a mood and took them away. When she was done and the color was washed from her hands, Bane was sitting on the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, the drying painting leaning against the wall by the bedside table. He was hunched over, the black of his tee-shirt stretched over the musculature of his back, a strange look in his eye.

"What time is it?" Claire asked, closing the bathroom door behind her.

His head turned her direction and his attention went to her figure. "It is 13:23."

She just hummed and walked closer to the displayed painting, reached out a hand to center it, then took a step back. It looked good there. When she glanced toward the resting behemoth she found his eyes held a trace of amusement and that he was, no doubt, smirking a little under that mask.

For the barest of moments she fought back a laugh, certain he found her little behavior entertaining.

"You were going to smile," he grunted then let out a breath, as if he expected her to do so now.

Green eyes, almost the same shade as the stems of the poppies, turned back to the painting and she cocked her head. She knew it made no difference whether she smiled or not. "If I smiled now I wouldn't mean it."

"You do not like your gift?"

Turning to face him, hands fisted in the stuff of her skirt, she nodded, "I like the paints; you know that."

Standing, Bane pushed past her and moved toward his desk, grunting rudely, "Paint another one."

Claire didn't paint, that mood had passed.

Sitting like an overgrown hulk at the small desk, Bane opened his laptop and ignored her. Claire began her ritual pacing, a caged animal who longed to just run. The picture had been a distraction, but it was nothing but a facsimile of what was outside. Suddenly a shot when through her and Claire froze in her movements. Bane had not touched her... he had not immediately arrived and backed her into the bed. Something was off.

Usually when she paced her mind was obsessing over the Omegas, her gut wrenching until she felt sick... but not that afternoon. Darting a glance at the back of his hated head, she suspected again that he was trying to break her down, confuse her... doing it subtly until she just cracked. Clearly he had no idea how very stubborn an Omega could be. Alphas might be stronger but her kind had the capacity for much a greater will. They had to to be anything more than a _bound_ _mate_ in the modern world.

Breathing irregularly, her fists clenched in her hair, pulling her locks as she said those words over and over inside her skull. _"I am Claire."_

"Come here." The order was issued in a moderate voice. Bane had not even turned his head her direction.

The last time she ignored a summons he fucked her three times in a row, even as she begged him to stop, left her spent and replete until she could do nothing but lay still and stare at the wall. Moving to stand at his side, her hands again bunched in her skirt and hair wild, Claire did as she was told. Green eyes ran over the computer screen instead of looking at him, finding again that the language his men communicated in was completely unfamiliar to her, some kind of amalgamation of codes and Latin.

A large hand enveloped the entirety of her hip, pulling her a few inches closer before the mountain turned. "Your brooding is making you upset."

Why was she being reprimanded for having feelings? Normal humans who were not psychopathic murders had feelings, and normal people did not do well for weeks on end in the same fucking room with only a monster for company!

Bane did not wait for an answer; he simply pressed his mask to her belly and sniffed. She knew what he was doing, the Alpha was assuming her behavior was because she might be with child, mistakenly attributed her mood swing to hormones. Claire could tell she was not pregnant, thank god, and had to eye roll the typical male behavior... Idiot.

Working his massive thumb into the hollow below her hip bone he looked up at her disturbed overexcited expression. "Sing something for me."

What? Sing? Claire did not want to mate and that was the probable outcome if she refused. Scowling she rubbed her lips together and tried to slow down her thoughts long enough to think of a song. Nothing came to mind. "Uhhh, what kind of song?"

"Something soothing."

He was trying to get her to self-sooth. Well he could go fuck himself. After a minute or two of deliberations, with the same steady pressure of his thumb moving against her skin, Claire settled on a well-known ballad from her teen years. It was sappy and portrayed romance in such a totally untrue light, but she had always liked it. Though, now she knew better. There was no such thing as true love, of that Claire was certain, only indoctrination, chemicals, and bastards who kept you locked in rooms.

By the time she neared the end her voice had grown desolate. The brooding had been replaced with despair. There was never going to be a hero, the growing cord of the bond made it clear that she would only ever have the large Alpha seated before her; a man whose face she had yet to see and who she hated with her whole heart.

"Kneel."

His hand already was gently suggesting she follow the order on her own or that he would press her down. Degraded, she went to her knees and looked up to grey eyes, her lower lip trembling, certain he would punish her for thinking such dark thoughts. When all he did was take her head and put it in his lap she breathed out in relief. He pet her as he worked, her silently crying onto the fabric at his thigh, confoundedly comforted as he played with her hair.

There was a knock at the door, Bane's answering bark to enter, and Claire moved to get up in surprise. With a hand on the back of her neck, Bane kept her as she was. She should have known... it was all just a show for when his soldier came to call.

Until that moment no one had been in the room, no one had seen what she had become. Peeking for just a second, she saw the same bearded Beta from the first day. The men spoke in a coarse language that meant nothing to her while Claire pressed her face into Bane's thigh so the soldier standing at attention would not see her wet eyes.

The meeting continued at length and Claire's knees began to ache, that weight ruffling the hair at the back of her skull never giving an inch. Placing her hand at his thigh, she scratched gently to get his attention; aware if she pushed away he would retaliate, especially as another male was watching.

"Bane," Claire whispered his name against his leg, intruding in the men's conversation.

It had worked. The hand on her skull stroked down and lifted her chin until their eyes met. "Yes, little one?"

He looked clinically focused, and she was unsure if interrupting had been such a good idea. "My knees-"

Bane simply pulled her up to his lap, and began absently rubbing her knee caps, continuing the conversation with his officer as if it were nothing. Her face was flaming in shame, unsure which was worse, kneeling at his feet like a dog or being forced to sit on his lap like a child. If either man noticed her discomfort, it was not addressed. He held her there for the next twenty minutes, still touching her knees and occasionally trailing his hands a little higher under her skirt.

Green eyes looked to Barsad, measured his stiff posture and unsmiling face, noting his eyes never darted to look at her. It was so strange to see another person that she stared. His beard was close cropped along a square jaw, he was much smaller than Bane, hardly taller than her, but seemed to have whipcord quality to him that made Claire suspect he was very dangerous.

The meeting seemed to draw to a conclusion and for a split second the man's vibrant blue eyes flicked toward her. Bane growled so aggressively, that Claire jumped. The soldier bowed a little, a submissive stance, and left without another word.

He was already pawing at her, turning her startled face toward that mask. She looked into his flared iron eyes, saw intense possession, the kind that made her stomach knot, staring back at her. Those hands, so large on her, began to rub, as if making sure she was there sitting just as he wanted, stroking a breast, his scarring mark on her shoulder, circling her neck.

"Why were you looking at him?" It was spoken very lowly, heavily laced with disapproval.

Shifting a little on his lap, Claire answered with a confused line between her brows, "I have not seen anyone else in... I don't even know how long I have been locked in here."

"So you find it acceptable to openly stare at other males?"

She scowled even deeper, totally confused. "Yes..."

Bane barked and she knew that his lips were snarled under the mask. "Your behavior is unacceptable. I gave you paints, you didn't thank me. I gave you comfort, you stared at the Beta."

Her mind just snapped. "I don't want fucking paints! I don't want to bow at your feet and be held like a pet on your lap. I want to go home! I want my life back!"

An instant later he roughly shoved her off his thigh, letting her topple painfully to the floor. Landing on her hip, she looked up, big eyes wide in her pale face, and froze. Everything in that cord between them was jostled badly... more badly than her bones from the fall. The mountain was furious, and he was slowly rising to his feet before her.

He looked about ready to crush her with his huge combat boots and she closed her eyes tight, anticipating the blow, welcoming an end to it all. There was silence, only the sound of his breath through the mask. Ten seconds passed and no move was made, when she finally cracked open an eye, Claire found that she was alone. Bane had left her so silently that not even the creaking door had dared make a sound.

Letting out a puff of air, she let her body sag back against the floor, while her heart hammered in her chest. It hit her then... there had been no slid of a metallic bolt shutting her in. The door might be unlocked.

Panicked, totally shaken by the look of murder her mate's eyes. Wait... not mate, she reminded herself, Bane's eyes. She stood and ran for the door. Pulling the lever, it mercifully turned and an empty hallway was right there before her.

Left or right? She didn't know the way, but she smelled Bane's scent clearly in one direction and just bolted like a frightened rabbit in the opposite path. Before the city fell she had run often around Gotham Park; not just for exercise, but to assure she was faster than any that might try to catch her. The weeks of lockup had done little to her speed and she ignored the painful thud of her bare feet against the floors. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, her breath a bit ragged as she tried to keep it in a runner's steady rhythm. Twisting and turning, she followed the sound of water. She saw a ladder and Claire flew up the thing, oblivious to the sound of men's shouting voices, unaware of the dash of soldiers trailing behind her. She flipped a hatch, eyes blinded by her first glimpse in weeks of bright sun light, and scrambled out of the darkness.

Everything above ground had changed; autumn had almost concluded while she'd been imprisoned. She darted down a random street, winding in and out of alleys, her body steaming in the chilled weather. She came to a crossroads, heaved for a split second, spit bile on the ground, and looked to the nearby freezing river. The temptation to jump in it and end it all for some reason was so tempting. No more Gotham, no more Bane, no more falling into rapturous pieces when he fucked her then hating herself afterwards.

But there were still the other Omegas... and she had let them down. They needed to know about the little blue pills, needed to know that Bane would not help them. It was that feeling alone that moved her feet again.

Claire ran for miles, ran in a crazy pattern that would make no sense to any who could smell her, ran until she vomited and fell in a pile on the sidewalk. Then she saw him, and he might have just been the most beautiful thing her eyes had ever beheld. A Beta, a stranger, was reaching down to help her... leading her sobbing body away from all the cold and pain.

He told her his name was Blake.

* * *

**Thank you to everyone who left such encouraging feedback on the first chapter. I appreciate your words! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

She woke up on an unfamiliar couch with actual sun on her face. Head aching, Claire sat up and looked around. The man's studio apartment was small, lower middle class like hers, and by the fact the main items of furniture were a huge television and the couch she was sitting up on, it was a definite bachelor pad. Blake himself was standing in the kitchen, frying eggs from the smell of it.

"Do you like coffee, Miss?"

God, she had not had access to coffee in months. Already salivating she nodded; her green eyes so wide it made him chuckle just a little. The young man walked over with a lopsided grin, handing her a plate of food and the steaming beverage.

"Sorry, I don't have sugar or milk."

She could care less. The mug went to her lips and Claire sipping it with a contented sigh. "Thank you."

"Just eat up. When you're finished you can shower and... not to make this awkward, but you might want to put on some of my dirty clothes to mask your scent."

After all the running, all the sweat, she reeked of Omega. His offer was extraordinarily kind, assuming he was not just cornering her like the last man had.

Reading the look on the woman's troubled face, Blake added, "I'm not going to hurt you."

Suspicious, Claire just asked blankly, "Why are you helping me?"

"I'm a cop."

She shook her head. "The cops are all trapped under ground."

He looked both unyielding, hardened for one so young, but also still smirking like a boy, "Not all of us, Miss."

Her lower lips started to tremble and she muttered, "My name is Claire."

"Are you okay, Claire?" Blake asked very carefully, looking at a woman that showed all the reactive signs of abuse.

God it was so nice to hear someone say her name. Whispering she shook her head, "I'm not okay."

Skirting the couch, Blake sat as far from the shaken woman as the sofa would allow. With his hands on his knees and his blue eyes soft and open, he gently suggested, "Tell me what happened to you."

She knew the second she said the name Bane he would kick her ass out on the street. She hated to lie but she needed real clothing, and a shower. Walking around in the thin summer dress Bane had supplied her with would only freeze her to death or draw even more unwanted attention. But there might be one thing the supposed cop could help her with.

"The drug dealers are selling counterfeit heat-suppressants; they look just like the little blue pills... But they are not heat-suppressants; they're fertility drugs. They are causing us to go into estrous unexpectedly when we are unprepared and exposed. If you're a cop, you need to find out who is behind it and stop them before we are all ruined."

"And this happened to you?" Blake asked, urging her gently to continue.

Claire didn't say yes or no, she didn't have to, the huge tears dripping down her cheeks was answer enough.

Realizing that she was close to falling to pieces, Blake nodded and promised, "I'll look into it. Now finish your lunch." His boyish grin came back, "I had to fight six Alpha females to get those eggs."

The joke made her laugh just a little and the coffee went back to her lips but it was hard to enjoy. The unshakable paranoia that Bane would burst through the door at any moment made her stomach churn. Or worse yet, the man could be lying and was just waiting for an Alpha he would sell her too. With her mind running in circles she watched the young man. There was no projection of attraction, he was not sexually aroused. He was just a guy cooking eggs in his kitchen. He seemed genuine and harmless... he even smelled acceptable, but no one in Gotham could be trusted, could they?

After her plate was cleared and she nervously brought it to Blake's sink to rinse, he took it and shooed her off to the shower, telling her to take her pick from what was in the hamper. Claire scrubbed every bit of Bane off of her body, knowing that Blake had smelled the Alpha scent she was saturated in... mortified that the little string in her chest seemed to be twanging as if pulled too taunt by a demanding pair-bond.

She closed her eyes and could practically hear Bane raging, his hissing breath coming in long pants, the roars. Then something far more disturbing ran under her skin. If she felt his furry, he felt her abject terror. Because of the tie, Bane was still with her, there even at that moment in the shower sensing her though the link. Hyperventilating, Claire mental repeated, _only instincts_, and forced her eyes open to prove to her mind that nothing but discolored tiles and steam surrounded her. That he wasn't there watching her, ready to rip out her throat. Turning off the spray, she dried with a towel scented in another man, a man who had not once tried to hurt her... at least not yet. From his laundry she pulled out the most pungent pieces, dressing in a sweater that he must have ran in, and a pair of sweatpants that, knowing guys, had not been washed in weeks.

Standing at the fogged mirror, she found her queer green eyes in the reflection and wished she understood why the face looking back at her was filled with regret. Disgusted with that woman, Claire turned her back and returned to the living room. Blake was still standing at the kitchen counter, eating his own meal. He nodded, with his mouth full.

"I have no way to barter or repay you for the clothes right now. But when I can I will." Her voice was so off it seemed like it was coming from far away.

When Blake saw her move toward the door he swallowed quickly and approached with caution, "Ma'am, you're in shock. I don't think it's a good idea for you to be wandering the streets. What you need is to rest, get your bearings. You can be safe here if you need a place to regroup."

Everything he said seemed so sensible, even the weight of his hand on her shoulder, steering her back to the couch. Mechanically, Claire lay down again, he covered her with a blanket, and she fell practically into a coma, a corner of her mind still marveling at the feeling of sun on her face.

* * *

The dreams began that very first night. She was running through Gotham, through smoke and fog. The storefronts she passed boarded up, some burning, everything was broken. No matter which direction she turned she could not escape the mob at her back. The jeering faces of raging Alphas, violent Betas... they wanted to rip her to pieces because everything was her fault. She had sent the monster into a rage, she was the reason the city would burn.

Hands began to grasp at her but she pressed forward with all her strength, lungs burning as she tried to find her way. She took a wrong turn, found herself trapped in a dark alley, hounded and petrified. But then he was there in the other side of darkness, waiting for her. Standing like a mountain, his hands fisting the collar of his shearling coat. Bane reached out, beckoning her to him with the flick of his fingers.

With the dogs at her back and the devil before her she did not know where to turn...

Claire woke screaming.

Blake rushed from his bed, clicking on a flashlight to offer something besides the brownout enforced dark of the neighborhood curfew.

"It's okay. You're safe, Claire," his voice came out soothing, as if he were accustomed to comforting a weeping child. And at that moment that's all that she was.

She threw her arms around a stranger and held on for dear life, and Blake hugged her back because that's what she needed.

"He'll find me here," she whispered, trembling. "He's already looking."

"He won't find you here. Do you understand? It was just a bad dream. Whoever he was cannot force you anymore. You're free, you get to choose."

_I get to choose..._

The words resonated in her and she began to calm her breathing. Leaning back and wiping the snot and tears from her face she started to pull it together.

Illuminated by the small pen light, Blake asked, "Would you like me to sit up with you?"

Claire shook her head and answered in a shaky voice, "No... I feel better now. Thank you."

She was lying of course.

There was no more sleep that night; she simply sat on the couch and started at shadows. It was only when the sun came up that she felt safe enough to close her eyes again.

* * *

Blake left a note on the coffee table for the sleeping girl and then went out the door to make his rounds. After syphoning some gas from an abandoned car, he hit up Saint Swithins orphanage, checking to see how the boys were holding up. One of the kids he knew really well had outgrown his shoes and his old pair looked like the might fit Claire, Blake gave him a candy bar in trade.

On the streets Bane's mercenaries seemed extra shifty, hyper-vigilant, and Blake made sure to keep his head down. Passing a line of citizens waiting for their share of rations at a food truck, he saw several people being pulled aside by the soldiers. That was nothing new, but today they only seemed to be targeting women, pulling off their scarves, exposing covered hair, sniffing them up close. A few Alpha females were getting riled; even the Beta's were starting to show their teeth.

Messing with women was a sure way to start riots. The females alone, Alphas especially, would react instinctively. If their children were near, they might be even more aggressive. Then there was their mates, Alpha or Beta, no one like to see their woman being harassed.

The air was tense as he passed by the mob to return to his apartment as quick as he could. She was awake, her head turning toward the door the instant she heard his key in the lock. When it was only the cop offering a calming small smile, Claire let out a breath she did not even realize she'd been holding.

"I found some shoes that might fit you... they're gonna stink like teenage boy's feet though," he added with a playful grin.

"I have been wearing clothes stolen from rotting corpses... I think teenage stink won't be so bad," She was trying to banter but her voice came out flat and what should have been funny was unnerving. Claire tried again and enforced inflection and a smile, "Thank you."

"It's Thursday, so the power will be on in this block tonight." He locked the door and set the shoes on the floor near the woman. "If you like, we can watch some television or I got a couple movies... probably nothing you would like though."

He seems so boyish and so determined all at once that Claire actually chuckled a little. "You choose."

While Claire pulled the shoes over borrowed socks, Blake took a seat at the far end of the couch, each of them sitting like bookends. He lifted the remote and turned on the national news. It was the same outside coverage of Gotham. Satellite photos, sources claiming they had leads on stories in the city... ninety nine percent inaccurate. From his peripheral, Blake saw her sigh and mutter, "five weeks," realizing that she was staring at the date on the screen.

He didn't say anything, he just waited, letting her process the information of what he assumed was how long she'd been captive. When the evening news was finished, Blake popped in a Blu-ray of Spaceballs, hoping some cheesy slapstick might wipe the glassy eyed look off her face. It did.

"I used to watch this with my dad when I was a kid," she offered, glancing at him with a small half-felt smirk. "I love Mel Brooks films."

He gave her a crooked grin. "Your dad sounds like he has excellent taste."

"He did." Claire agreed, her face less tragic. "He was a really funny guy. Soooo Alpha though."

They both just laughed, knowing exactly what that meant. Alpha parents were fanatical about their children. Over-involved, bragged constantly... generally an embarrassing pain in the ass.

"What about your mom?"

"An uptight Omega with no sense of humor... she left when I was twelve."

That was very unusual, children usual made Omegas incredibly dedicated spouses and parents and the bond was unbreakable, would have compelled her to return. Blake wanted to ask and it was all over his face. Claire just spit it out; it was old news after all, "She found a hotel in the city and took a bottle of pills. Overdosed... couldn't stand a life tied to someone she didn't like."

"I'm sorry."

Shaking her head, her dark hair swaying, Claire said, "Don't be. In the end she got her choice. I respect that." Looking back to the screen she asked, "What about you? What were your parents like?"

"Both Betas. Mom died when I was a baby, dad a few years later."

Green eyes looked back at the brown haired man on the couch, the man who had been kind to her and possessed a boyish innocence. But he was not smiling at that moment... he looked as if being an orphan were nothing, yet the lines on his face spoke of a lifetime of being an outsider looking in.

Swallowing, Claire said sincerely, "I'm not going to say I'm sorry because I am sure you don't want to hear it. But I am."

There seemed to be an understanding between them. Both looked back to the movie, laughing at all the right parts, neither one hundred percent sure if the other was faking it. When the credits rolled, Blake made them dinner, surprised to find the kitchen had been scrubbed clean in his absence. He watched the back of her head, saw her nervously play with her hair, and wondered how on earth the world had become what it was.

* * *

If she sat on the floor just right, a few inches from the wall and angled her head, there was a patch of sky the surrounding buildings did not block. More of that delicious sun on her skin but something in all of it was hollow. Blake had not told her to leave and she had to admit to herself she was terrified of even stepping outside. It seemed so ironic that all she had wanted was to breathe fresh air and now that she could... she could not. But she could look out that window, crouched down low so that not a soul but the birds flying overhead could see her.

That first day she felt her mind slowly grow quiet, sighed deeply, and saturated into the calm comfort of the purr. It took her almost an hour before she was startled out of the daydream, to panic at a sound that shouldn't be there, certain he was standing behind her. Her head flew around; she searched the small studio apartment. Bane was not there and Claire knew logically that she was alone, but she could practically smell him in the air. Heart racing, Claire pulled her knees under her chin, and went back to her view, determined to control her mind. The harder she fought, the warmer the worm in her chest grew, and over and over a soft little tug came to the thread. It was the strangest sensation, as if the beast was utterly calm now, calling to her almost gently.

Claire didn't trust it for a second.

Bane was an aggressive man, in conversation, in his actions, in bed. There was no gentle unless it served him, and it was always calculating. He had no feeling, or if he did they were so twisted up in his megalomania they didn't really count. Whatever he thought he might gain by trying to lure her with something as elusive as a soft invitation through the bond, she was not going to comply. Claire was going to keep that window and that little slice of sky over darkness and isolation.

A few hours later she was back at the couch, reading a book she had pulled from Blake's small collection. In all the time she had been underground she had never once touched one of Bane's books, like they might infect her with his warped view of the world. It was her stubborn little defiance to refuse the pleasure that might be gained from something that was his. Blake was just a stranger, a hospitably one, but a stranger none the less, and she felt no so such anxiety in his collection of paperback novels and books on sports.

Claire had made it a quarter of the way through a John Grisham novel when the man himself returned home from his rounds. They exchanged customary pleasantries, Claire waiting for him to gently show her the door. Once again he seemed unconcerned to have an interloper sitting quiet in the room. He attended to his own things, she went back to the book, and before she knew it the lights were out and she was back laying down on couch.

That was the order of those first four days; they were simple, and the solitude when he left her alone in the day was almost soothing to her ragged nerves. It was the nights Claire hated. Vivid dreams plagued and ruined any chance of restful slumber, over and over and over. Bane was always there, silently calling out to her, waiting for her to take his hand... When it got to the part of the dream where she was trapped between two evils, Claire always froze, staring at the masked man. She could feel it in that narrow alley, feel the sweat on her face from the run, smell the vehemence of the mob behind her, hands reaching to grasp and hurt. Then there were the grey eyes. Steady grey eyes; determined grey eyes.

Bane would reach out a hand to her, silent in the din of wrathful screams, and crook his fingers. To Claire's horror, every time she dreamed the dream, her feet moved one step closer to him. She would wake in a cold sweat and sit up on the couch just to make sure Blake was there. The Beta slept like the dead, snored just a little, and it was a sound that brought great comfort... reminded her that she was free. That it was only the influence of the bond... that she was awake and she got to choose.

When the urge to vomit passed and the fevered trembling ended, Claire would lay back and try to think of nice things. Every night as she stared at Blake's ceiling, the boy's snores eventually turned into the sound of mechanical breaths just as sleep came upon her again. There sensation of a warm hand stroking her hair to sooth her, and unknowingly her mind would reach out and wait for the purr only for the dream to invade again where she could find no comfort.

The sun would rise and so would Claire, more tired than she had been before sleep. Blake noticed it too, she could tell by the way he darted glances at her. Neither of them spoke of it, after all, what was the point. The fifth day Blake told her that he would not be back until morning. It was an awkward moment, then the beta reached into his pocket and pulled out a little white pill.

"This will help you sleep, if you want it."

Blake left it on the counter with a small conciliatory smile and wished her good day, leaving the Omega to stare at the thing. Claire didn't touch it, found herself far too mesmerized by the little pharmaceutical and how much trouble they had turned out to be in her life. The temptation to drop it down the sink was as strong as the temptation to swallow it immediately.

All day that little pill stared at her, her fingers curled at the edge of the counter, crouched down to be eye level with the little white oval. What if she took it and sleep did come? What if the dream came with it and she could not wake up to save herself from taking those final steps toward a man the manipulative pair-bond was twisting into a savior? Claire could not deny that each night Bane seem less like the monster in the story and more like the offer of shelter, her rock in the storm. What if she had a whole bottle of those pills so she could just take them all at once?

In the end, when the dark came, she did not take the little white pill, she hid it instead. Laying in the darkness, buried under heaps of blankets, she closed her eyes and the same movie played over and over in her mind. Grey eyes, an outreached hand, villains and smoke... only that night each time she woke there was no snoring anchor in the corner of the room for her to pace her heartbeats to. Curled up and delirious from days without rest, she felt she was going mad, hearing things, and confused. As the hours stretched by, Claire realized with a creeping apprehension that it was Bane's mechanical breath she kept imagining in the corner, not the Beta's snores; Bane's hand she almost believed was stroking her hair, and she felt in her bones if she could only hear a few moments of that purr that untroubled sleep would come at last.

* * *

Blake had a bad feeling about leaving the Omega alone overnight. Her night terrors were substantial and he worried she might just panic and run. But he had to rendezvous with Gordon and the handful of free cops where he could pass forward the information he'd gathered during the week and receive new orders as well. It was like a kick in the gut each time he arrived at the designated location. There would be one or two less faces, men he'd known for years just gone. There was still a manhunt for cops, his brothers dragged away to the courts never to be seen again. And some just gave up. Afraid for themselves, for their families... they ran scared and hid. He looked around the room, his brow stern and determined, hardened himself to the truth that they were dwindling quickly.

Face grim, his hands in his pockets, Blake nodded his hello, silently counting heads, and then waited for Gordon to begin. The Commissioner was holding up pretty well, either that or he put on a good front. Pushing his glasses up his nose, the older man got straight to business; calling out to the different men for updates on truck routes as the traced the pattern on their map.

It had been roughly two and a half months since the occupation began. The cops were still trapped, the city under martial law, Bane ruling with an iron fist. Minor rebellions sprang up here and there, squashed with such precision it was almost laughable. Yet the man let riots run unchecked, completely unconcerned if a whole city block was burning.

Gordon's resistance had nothing more than a plan to watch the bomb and wait for outside help. It frustrated Blake to no end, but they had been in contact with the Special Forces, and in a matter of weeks men were going to arrive with orders from the outside on how best to take action.

When it was Blake's turn to report, he detailed all the information he'd gathered then started to speak on another matter. "I recently learn that the dealers are selling fake heat-suppressants. It's causing Omegas in hiding to go into a cycle when they are unprepared and most likely exposed. They are being brutalized."

Gordon frowned, his brows drawing together. It was assumed that with rape so rampant in the city that Omega's, with their appealing scent, had gone into hiding... Even the few that he knew had just up and left their homes, others had been found horribly hurt or dead. "Is this a wide spread issue or just one drug dealer?"

"I don't know. But if it is widespread... a lot of people could get hurt."

It was Foley who cocked his head arrogantly and demanded, "Who'd you hear this from?"

Blake had never liked the taller man with his arrogance and total lack of sense. Looking at the Beta, he tried not to let his animosity show in his stern expression. "I came across a very frightened Omega female a few days ago, running down the street until she collapsed."

Easing a step closer, a small intrigued cock in his brow, Lieutenant Foley asked, "What did she look like?"

Sneering a little at the question, Blake shrugged his shoulders, "What's that matter?"

"It matters," Gordon explained in a level voice, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket, "because there is a very large bounty out on this woman."

It was a flyer, similar to the wanted signs used by the PD. The young woman was smiling, her waving black hair tousled as if by the wind, green eyes sparkling, gentle and inviting. Claire O'Donnell looked lovely and vibrant... and though the version Blake had met was shattered and frightened, that was the Omega that was sleeping on his couch.

It all started making sense. The women were being harassed in the food lines because everyone was looking for _her_. And the bounty itself was a king's ransom. "What's she wanted for?"

Gordon's lips went into a line and he shook his head, "I don't know, but I'd like to find out."

Blake could not take his eyes off the photo. He took a deep breath, let it out his nose, and muttered, "Then you better come over to my apartment." Glancing at his boss, he added, "But I gotta tell ya, she is not going to be comfortable around an Alpha right now. And if you show her that, it might just send her over the edge."

"You and I will go after our rounds are finished," Gordon confirmed. "See what she knows."

* * *

It was almost dawn when she heard the key in the door. After a night of hellish sleep and total exhaustion she was jumpy and bolted toward the wall when another man, an Alpha, came in the room behind Blake.

"Don't come near me!" she snarled, looking for anything she could use to strike him with, settling on a baseball bat, and clutching it so hard it shook.

Gordon and Blake just stood by the door, patiently waiting until Claire had her weapon and seemed to feel a bit less cornered.

The older Alpha had the kindest voice, soft soothing eyes, and years of experience speaking to victims. "Do you know who I am?"

With lips pressed in a line and eyes narrowed to slits, she nodded. "You're Commissioner Gordon."

"I am not here to hurt you." He cocked his head at the younger cop. "Blake here says that you need help. I'd like to see what I can do."

Her grip tightened on the bat, "I don't want you coming any closer."

"I can stay here." He smiled softly, even backing up a few steps and sitting at a bar stool by the kitchen counter.

It seemed to appease the Omega, and she slowly lowered the bat. From the dark smudges under her eyes, Blake could tell she had hardly slept, could smell the lingering tinge of fear in the air. There was a standstill, Claire silent as she watched the Alpha like a hawk, Gordon waiting, letting her do what she felt she needed to.

When several minutes had passed and her chest stopped heaving so forcefully, Gordon began, using the information that Blake had shared with him. "You were taking the counterfeit heat-suppressants and went into estrous in a place that was dangerous."

"Yes."

"What happened?"

Rubbing her lips together she took a deep breath, "What matters... The only way you can help me is to find a way to protect the hidden Omegas. They are starving... they need food."

"I need to know what happened to you before I can figure out how to help you all."

Her back was pressed so sharply against the wall, Claire's shoulder blades dug into it. With an expression that grew positively wretched she only barely formed the words, "It was dangerous to take rations at the food trucks. More of us were getting picked off every day and those of us who did get food... it was never enough. So it was decided that I would go to City Hall to ask in person for a relief shipment just for us. So Alphas couldn't bother us, where we could be fed without fear of capture.

I was taking the pills, covered in clothing that had been on a rotting corpse to mask my scent. I climbed the steps and found him. He would not acknowledge me, so I waited."

She drew a shaky breath and stopped. Blake picked up for her, saying cautiously, "And you went into heat in the courtroom..."

Claire nodded.

The young man continued, "And someone took advantage."

"There was a riot, he killed a lot of people and pulled me out of it," she tried to explain but she just could not get that name passed her tongue.

Both men had noticed that she had not once said Bane; that she continued to refer to Bane as _him_. It was Gordon who posed the question as delicately as he could, "And Bane was the one who took you?"

She began to cry, whimpering as she fell to pieces, "He refused to send a food truck, instead demanded I tell him where the Omegas were so they could be lock in Blackgate and used by his men. He forced a pair-bond... kept me locked in his room for weeks." Her hand went to her chest, her fist knocking against it. "And I can still feel him, right here."

They were stunned, both slack jawed. A pair-bond... The man was searching for his mate.

Blake seemed to be shaking his head, as if it were impossible. He could understand why a villain like Bane would rut her through a heat, but to actually pair-bond with a stranger seemed extreme. His profile detailed that Bane was highly intelligent and cunning, such an action seemed so far out of the scope. A bond was forever, there was no known way to break it without the death of one of the pair. And the aftermath was messy; oftentimes the living partner could never pair again. He'd taken Claire for life. No wonder she was so terrified... a man with the power to take over an entire city, with an army at his back, was hunting her down and bonded to her.

She opened her eyes and forced herself to stop crying, "I have to tell the Omegas. I have to go to them."

All Blake could mumble was, "You can't go outside, Claire. This is Bane we are talking about. His influence in this city is almost absolute."

"I can't abandon them... I should have gone sooner but I..." She didn't need to say she was afraid. That fact was obvious.

"You are a very brave woman," Gordon said in a voice that was encouraging and strong. "What you tried to do for the others was incredibly courageous, but you cannot do it alone. Let us assist you. Together we'll find a way to help the Omegas."

"How?" Large green eyes went to the soft spoken older man.

"For now we'll get them food... but there will need to be a long-term solution. How many are there?"

Shaking her head she wiped her eyes and stated, "There were around eighty five the last time I was there. But it's been over a month, it could be half that number... I have no idea."

"Where are they?" Gordon asked.

Her face grew instantly hard and threatening. Claire straightened her shoulders, and said nothing. She would speak to the Omegas first, they would decide before she revealed the location to anyone. Period.

The woman's challenging expression was not missed. Gordon raised a hand up and added, "I mean them no harm."

She growled, a bit of her old spirit coming through, "I don't trust any Alpha."

"I understand," and he did. It would be impossible to expect a woman who had been through what she had been through to expose the others to the same potential fate.

"Give me a few days to consider all options, to get some food together as well." Gordon was standing from his chair and she was already lifting the bat again in warning. The Commissioner nodded a good bye and left before the sun got any higher in the sky.

The day passed in silence between Blake and Claire, but that night they watched another movie together, each of them on opposite ends of the couch, a bowl of popcorn in the middle. Knowing her penchant for Mel Brooks, Blake had chosen his favorite by the director, Blazing Saddles, and it seemed to peel away the hard attitude that had straightened her spine and made Claire restlessly pace all through the day.

When it was time for bed, Claire seemed settled and Blake went to sleep certain she was stronger than she had been before.

She was.

Once Claire heard his snores, she climbed silently from the couch, stole his coat, and left to find the Omegas. It was dark, the sky overcast, and the streetlights out from Bane's manipulation of the power grid to enforce curfew. Memorizing where she was, so that she could find her way back, Claire ran from shadow to shadow all the way to the Narrows... all the way to the ruins of Arkham Asylum.

The place had been abandoned and shut up ten years ago. Nobody went there and the city never re-purposed the site; not after the horrible things that had taken place on those grounds before and during the Night of Terror. Being as it was also in the Narrows it was in an area generally avoided even during the occupation. Gothamites were afraid of even walking the sidewalk outside... it was perfect for the Omegas, there was cells to sleep in, running water, rooms where children could be free to play and make noise without the outside word hearing a peep through the thick concrete walls. On the downside, they had no power and no heat, a problem they would have to solve soon, for even then it was like an icebox inside.

"It's Claire," the shout went up once Claire had made it through the cracks in the wall, staggering closer to the women huddling for warmth.

Claire gulped for breath, and hung her head between her knees. She was trying to speak even though she was winded but all that came out to the approaching Omega females was, "Blue pills, fake..."

Someone brought her water, a match was struck, and a precious candle lit so that they could do more than smell the familiar woman. Huddled around the light was a sight that made Claire's heart ache. The Omegas were skeletal, and so many looked at her with eyes totally devoid of hope... haggard. Expressions were mixed from joy at her arrival, suspicion, and flat out envy... and she knew why. Bane had been feeding her, she was healthy; she had been given food while they had had nothing.

It was Nona, one of the elders and respected by the group who spoke first. "Oh my god, Claire. I've been so worried."

Green eyes looked to Nona, with her salt and pepper hair and heart shaped face. "How many are there left?"

"Last head count was fifty six."

Claire wanted to be sick. Fifty six... practically a third of the Omegas had been picked off while she had been imprisoned by Bane. "I have so much to tell you," Claire began, her voice growing stronger. "If you have not already figured it out, the blue pills are not heat-suppressants... they are fertility drugs. Someone is setting us up. I went into my cycle right in the middle of the damn courtroom."

Several of the Omegas gave soft gasps of horror staring at the young woman with pity, others looked like they no longer had any feeling to share.

"There's more. Bane will not help. He refuses to send a food truck, wanted me to disclose your location so that everyone could be moved to Blackgate, segregated from the population."

"But isn't that what we want?" a redheaded woman by her side demanded harshly.

Claire looked her dead in the eye, saw the misery that clung to her and said, "You would be imprisoned and offered to his Alphas in estrous to be bonded to men of his choosing. He told me so himself."

"But would he feed us?"

"Is that what you want?" Arched eyebrows went up. Claire shook her head and continued. "I have also met with Commissioner Gordon. He offers food, wants to help us."

"How?" several voices asked at once.

"He needed a few days to get a plan together. Once I find out what it is, I'll come back and tell you. Then we can all decide."

Nona, put her hand on Claire's shoulder, "You are not going to stay? It's dangerous for you out there. Don't you know there is a huge bounty out on your head? Amelia saw the flyer two days ago."

Claire scowled but the news was not exactly surprising.

The same woman from before grumbled, poking the flesh of Claire's cheek, "You have grown fat. Bane's men were feeding you."

Brushing off the fingers with a warning snarl, Claire barked, "I was trapped in a room for five weeks!"

"But they fed you!"

"Quiet, Lilian," Nona snapped at the instigator. "You're hungry not stupid... You can tell from her altered scent that Claire has been pair-bonded. They would feed what they want to keep. Instead of remaining with her mate she escaped and came here to help us all."

Claire was mortified. Did she really smell different? When more eyes began to shine at her in the light of the candle, and noses began to sniff, all Claire could do was try not to shrink back in shame.

"Which one was it? Who claimed you?" The question was being asked by several women.

Answering quickly, Claire asserted, "It doesn't matter."

The same redhead, her lips curled in a nasty grin, laughed under her breath. Claire tried to remind herself that Lilian was starving to death, lived in a constant state of terror... her feral behavior was understandable.

"I better go now." Claire pulled Nona into a hug. "Expect me back in a few days."

It felt good to smell and hold someone so familiar, someone she knew cared about her. When the extended embrace was finished, Claire left, running through the night streets of Gotham all the way back to Blake's apartment. He never even knew she'd been gone.

* * *

**Again, I just have to say thank you for all the reviews, comments on FB, and supportive PM's. I am having a blast writing this story and your acknowledgment really keeps me glued to the work. Please let me know what you think of this new chapter. I'm also interested in a survey of sorts. What do you think, is Bane a good guy or a bad guy?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

With his hands buried deep in his pockets and his head down low between his shoulders, Blake walked up to the dealer he'd been watching for the last two days and cocked his head. "I need your heat-suppressants. The little blue ones."

"Sure thing man." The hood with sagging jowls reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a bottle. "Gonna cost ya week's box of rations."

"Naw." Blake shook his head, counting the sores on the thugs face, "I need a lot more than that. Can you manage twenty or thirty bottles?"

Narrowed yellowed eyes looked over the detective, "Why you need so many?"

Blake just gave the man the most evil of perverted grins.

"A man after my own heart." Chipped brown teeth flashed in a greasy smile. "How many did you catch?"

"My boss, actually, has got them." Blake added, "But he knows what those are and we all get to play when the bitches start to beg for it."

"Awful generous of him to let you partake."

With shrugged shoulders and a licentious smirk, Blake added, "How much pussy can one man handle alone?"

The both laughed. The dealer pursed his lips and stated, "I don't have that much product here but I can get it for you, then maybe we can work out a trade... if your stock is any good. I'm tired of the cunt we sell."

Pursing his lips, and smacking them once, Blake said, "Just tell me when, where," winking like an arrogant asshole.

* * *

"I got a line on the guys selling the fake heat-suppressants," Blake stated to the room full of cops. "Tomorrow they are expecting me to pick up a large quantity for my boss at a warehouse out in the south Low Town docks area. A place called McMillan's Imports. From the sound of it, there are Omegas held there as well in forced estrous. Whoever is running the show is pimping them out."

"Good work," Gordon acknowledged before looking toward Foley, "Take a team and check it out. Report back tomorrow."

The tall lieutenant pointed at four guys and the men went to work, discussing a strategy in another corner. Gordon took a deep breath and looked again at the note he'd received smuggled in that morning. The team of Special Forces they had been waiting on for weeks was being delayed... again. Not set to arrive until mid-December while Gotham was starving and violence ran rampant.

The president was doing nothing, impotent when it came to taking a stance against Bane, too caught up in politics to do his job. Everything Bane had demanded he was given, every outrageous ultimatum met. Meanwhile Gordon's fellow cops were rotting in the sewers, and the few who had managed to escape being trapped the day the city fell were being chipped away. It was wearing them all down.

Looking up at his youngest follower, at the opinionated and stubborn Blake, their eyes met and they both seemed to feel the grind. "Let's go talk to her."

The duo made quick time to Blake's apartment and she was there, pacing and gaunt. Commissioner Gordon laid out the sketch of a plan, the best he could do for now. Claire was not exactly pleased, but it was far better than any other options available... namely slavery, rape, or murder.

"I have contact with the military outside the city. Should they clear it, we will begin to smuggle the Omegas out of Gotham, a hand full at a time," the older Alpha explained, sitting back on the same bar stool as he had taken during his last visit. The man looked tired, his grey fleck hair ruffled and in need of a cut.

Claire met his eyes, walked closer to him and watched with acute attention, sniffing the air often as she weighed his words. She was certain the government would say no. "Even if they agreed, it could possibly take months to move them all. Food trucks only come twice a week. Who goes, who stays... how do the rest of them survive while they wait? Why not pack them all into one truck and just get them over the bridge?"

Gordon nodded at her questions and shared what he could, "The trucks are randomly searched. Two or three people we can hide under crates, inside coolers. Fifty six at a time?" The man shook his head. "If Bane's men found them everyone would either be killed or taken prisoner... and then there is his threat to blow up the city if anyone crosses the bridge."

He had a good point and it was certainly better than nothing, but those who had to wait would be even more exposed as their numbers decreased. "What about food in the meantime?"

"We can smuggle them food and a contact from the outside can bring legitimate heat-suppressants in with the next round of supplies."

Her ears pricked up at that. "And when they are over the bridge where would they go?"

"The military would see to the Omegas needs."

Something about that statement seemed awfully familiar. "Let me guess... a compound," Claire breathed cynically.

"If they even agreed to my suggestion that would be the reasonable assumption. Those women probably need medical attention, structure, therapy... should the military take them all that would be provided."

When had the government ever protected Omegas? They practically had no rights without a mate to speak for them. But if Gordon's plan worked they would be out of Gotham, away from the terrorist, and the violence. "I will speak with the Omegas tonight."

"Claire," Blake interjected, stepping nearer the woman with a diplomatic expression. "You need to trust us to talk to them while you stay here where you are sheltered."

"Look, Blake," her eyes went to the boyish obstinate of his dark brown eyes, "I appreciate everything you have done for me, but am not telling you where they are. This is their decision and I will speak with them first."

"You haven't slept in days, you hardly eat..." Blake grew stubborn. "Wandering Gotham in the state you are in will get you killed. If you have to go then take me with you. A Beta will be less threatening and there is safety in numbers. I can also help carry more food."

Claire seemed to be considering, her eyes going to the window. When she answered her mouth was set, "We'll go tonight."

Both men seemed appeased. Gordon left, and Blake remained, offering a reassuring smile. The detective was right about one thing, Claire was a wreck. She could not even remember the last time she'd had more than an hour of sleep at a time. The world was foggy, like she was drunk, even her words came out slurred if she was not particularly careful.

"Would it be rude of me to ask you to put on a dirty sweatshirt and sweatpants and run around outside for an hour?" Claire asked, smiling a little at the young man.

Blake understood, knew she would want to smell like anything but Omega on their trip, and did as she asked with a boyish smirk. While he was gone, she sat fitfully on the couch. She was so fucking tired, her body was aching, and the thrum in her chest seemed uneasy and persistent. Standing, Claire crossed to the bathroom, hopeful a hot shower would clear the cobwebs from her mind and knock the terrible sense of foreboding out of her bones.

She cranked up the tap and the pipes gave a groan, growling so low before water burst forth that Claire's sleep deprived mind mistook the sound for another. Under the spray, eyes closed, she felt half-aware. The growl came again and where there should only have been water streaming over her flesh the heat of large hands seemed to replace it.

They flowed over the line of her spine, soothed the dip in her lower back, to smooth around to her hips... the air full of guttural appreciative grunts. Those same hands, callused and warm stroked her soft belly upward to hold the weight of her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples until they were so sensitive she whimpered. The thread pulsed in her chest, and generous slick dripped down her leg as the growl sounded again.

All around her, low hissing breaths echoed deep and hungry, the heat of his chest pressed to her back, the thickness of his staff grinding at the cleft in her buttocks, while his fingers played with her clit. The other hand left her breast and ran up her neck, until two fingers were pushed into her mouth.

The sound of his breath at her ear when he ordered, "suck," made her eyes rolled back in her skull.

Claire found herself pressed to the tile, her sensitive nipples chaffed by the grout, her tongue hungrily twisting around the fingers she fellated between her lips. The head of his cock was so hot on her swollen folds, almost startling, and it was not a slow entry. Bane speared her, his rhythm erratic and wild, filling the tiled enclosure with the sounds of wet pounding flesh and her muffed cries around his fingers.

With a low hitched moan, Claire came apart, her forehead against the tile as the world came back to her and the hallucination ended. The phantom hands were gone. There was no Bane, no growls or licentious grunts. It was only the sound of the pipes and her inadequate fingers working at her pussy.

_What the hell had just happened?_

Shaken, Claire pulled her fingers from her body and looked down at her hand, horrified to see what she'd done. She was going crazy, every other thought running out of her control. Almost in a panic, she reached for the soap and began to scrub away all the the pheromone laced slick before the whole apartment reeked of Omega arousal.

She was dressed in the same clothes from before when Blake returned. Looking up from the mac and cheese she was preparing for dinner, Claire smiled and said hello. The detective looked good and sweaty, perfect for what she needed.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower and let these dry a little for you," he said, still breathing hard, pulling the sweater over his head as he walked by.

"Dinner will be ready when you're done," Claire answered back with a tired smirk.

He disappeared behind the bathroom door and Claire retrieved the little white pill she'd saved the week before. It was crushed to a fine powder and mixed in with his serving while the Beta showered. Embarrassed, she knew he could smell the lingering scent of her enticing pheromones in the bathroom, though she had done her best to cover it up. When Blake took longer than usual she had an idea what he was doing, and was red up to her ears when she heard a muffled grunt. Fortunately he took his time coming out and her face was back to the ragged tired countenance she wore so well those days.

It was a Thursday; there was power, so they watched some television while they ate. Between the run, jacking off in the shower, and the sleeping pill she'd hidden in his food, Blake was out cold in less than an hour. Claire dressed in the sweaty clothes he'd prepared for her, threw a blanket over the Beta who'd been so kind, and left to find her Omegas.

* * *

The harder chill of encroaching winter was making itself known. Even a few early flurries fell around the city in the dark as she sprinted. It was miles to run to get to Arkham, miles on an exhausted woman who was about ready to drop.

It seemed they had been anticipating her, and a small group was already at the entrance with a candle lit. Resting her hands on her knees, Claire struggled to catch her breath, about ready to collapse on the ground. She started speaking without looking up to see which Omegas were in attendance.

"Gordon has a plan. He can provide food and real heat-suppressants. And he is going to contact the government to see if he can arrange to smuggle us out, a few at a time," Claire panted, voice tired and hoarse.

"How?" It was Lilian, the redhead who had been so vicious on her last visit.

"Food trucks. Should he get the go ahead, the kids will go first and then we decide amongst ourselves or via lottery... whatever the majority wants. Though to be honest I doubt the government will agree to it. Either way we will have food and proper medication."

"The plan would never work! If Bane learns that anyone crossed the bridge, he will set off the bomb! What about those of us who don't go on the first truck? What if he kills us all, you fool?"

Standing up straight, too tired to be patient with her bitchy attitude, Claire narrowed her eyes and grunted, "I'm only telling you the options. Decide for yourself if you want instant slavery or difficult freedom."

It was then Claire noticed that Nona was not in the group, that no others had come to hear her. There was only Lilian and two very unfriendly looking women.

"We have already decided," Lilian snarled, sounding more animal than Omega.

An instant later the world spun. There was a ringing in her ears that Claire tried to clear by shaking her head. Somehow she had ended up on her hands and knees, and then she was being pulled by forceful hands deeper into the Asylum. The main room was filled with the rest of the Omegas. They all looked on as she was yanked past, apathetic or scared, and still in her daze, Claire's eyes searched for Nona. The older woman was being restrained, struggling to get up from the hands that held her down.

Claire called out to her, begged the Omegas not to give into fear, and felt a hand fist her hair. Roughly, she was dragged to the cells, shoved inside the nearest one, and left in the dark. With stinging palms scrapped raw from her fall, Claire shook her head while her blood rushed and made her dizzy. Disoriented, she crawled to the bunk, half forgetting where she was and half infuriated at the sound of a rusty bolt being thrown in the door behind her.

The cot took her weight, and green eyes stared blankly at the wall, there was a name carved in the concrete she could see faintly by the light of the moon: _E. Nigma._

Claire laughed, the noise sounding coarse and broken in the freezing air. What better word to sum it all up. Her life was one big fucking enigma. Whoever the crazy man was who had once enjoyed this cell got it all right. The world was insane, her life had gone to shit, she couldn't sleep, fantasized about a monster, and craved deep in her bones something as arbitrary as his purr just so she could find rest from the hell he'd put her in. The way things were going, it seemed fitting that she was trapped in a nut house, though perhaps she should be upgraded to a room with padded walls.

_E. Nigma._

One of the women had struck her, Claire understood that as the confusion began to fade, and a lump on the side of her skull began to grow. Nona, the voice of reason, had been squashed by the voice of madness. Someone had to speak to them before it was too late. There was still time, she thought; time where those who were left behind could run. It took great effort to get off that cot, to tear her eyes away from one crazy man's moniker emblazoned on the wall. Standing hunched, Claire began her tirade. She screamed out her story, told them not to lose themselves in desperation and fear, to think rationally and see that Bane would never pay a bounty, that the whole thing had been a trap just to snare her. To stop before they all made themselves slaves.

It was a solid metal door and Claire only had so much voice. When it was done she had no energy left to do anything more than fall back on the cot. Her lashes fell and she curled up into a ball in an effort to stay warm in the icebox. Almost at once she fell into a stupor and the dream began again.

So much running, the wave of darkness at her back, but Bane was there at the end of that alley, his arm upraised. She ran so close, so close she could smell him, and her feet skidded to a halt. There were screams, furious screams of the Omegas who were in the mob at her back. The wave of noise was getting closer. Wide green eyes went back to Bane, back to the man standing like a stone in the chaos as he crooked his fingers. She took another step.

Claire's eyes opened in the fevered delirium to the sounds of shouting, the noise of the mob, it still echoed vaguely in the room around her. It was all still a dream, it had to be, for there was light, electricity in a building that had none. The hum of the old bulb and the filament inside, flashing and struggling to do what it was made for seem surreal. Semiconscious, she climbed out of bed, reached up a hand, and tried to touch it. Any minute now the mob would come for her and she would run, because she always ran, and she would find him because he was always there waiting.

Rolling her neck, hearing the pop and crack of bones realigning, she drew a shaky breath into her body, so exhausted her legs shook as glassy eyes went to the wall.

_E. Nigma_

How different the carving looked under such harsh light. Staggering toward the writing, she froze, her head turning toward the door that only seconds before had been closed. It seemed inevitable that his large form would fill the portal, that she would see the same armor, the same shearling coat, even the same grey reinforced fatigues on his legs as Bane had worn that very first day.

She met his eye, cocked a dark brow at the intensity in which he stared at her, and then instinctively turned to face him, just as she always did in the dream.

Whatever he saw in her face made the giant crouch down, as if to make himself seem smaller. Bane reached out a hand, slowly so as not to frighten. He'd never crouched in the dream. Claire closed her eyes, wondering if she had finally lost her mind, then that sound came... that pined for purr, and it was loud and confident, reassuring her that all was well.

"Come to me, little one," even his mechanical voice seemed perfect, melodic as the words distorted through the mesh. Coaxing with purrs and staying low and non-threatening, he added, "You will not be punished."

The thread was pulsating, whispering to her as it did, _Just step forward and take your Alpha's hand. He's calling you._ _He misses you._

In the distance there were sounds, frightening things of the mob from her dreams, the screams and the shouting. Bloodshot eyes flicked to the space beyond the man.

She had no idea what made her say the words, but they came softly, like a confession, as she looked out to the lit hallway, "You've been haunting my sleep. Every time I close my eyes you're there, beckoning me."

"You've been in my dreams as well," he crooned very deeply. "You've been singing to me, little one."

Dazed, she pulled in a deep breath of air, smelling the scent that was supposed to be with her, the familiar musk of that Alpha. Her voice seemed strange when it came to her own ears, "What did I sing?"

A smile was in his eyes, the skin at the corners crinkling. His fingers flicked, beckoning her, and Claire was mesmerized. "Come."

She was so very tired, and her desperate mind knew that untortured sleep would only arrive in the presence of that purr. It took only three weak steps before she stood directly before him, looking down at the male who even crouched was almost at her eye level. Claire did not take his hand. Instead she sagged against him, demanding in an exhausted breath, "Purr."

He did, turning to look at the clearly disoriented woman resting her head on his shoulder, intrigued that she had released an extended groan as if there was nothing else in the world that had ever been so soothing as the noise that rumbled from his chest. Massive arms wrapped around her, seeing she was halfway asleep and slipping to the floor. Bane stood.

Claire didn't see the door close behind him or the bearded soldier that took up position as guard. She did not know that he took off his coat, or how Bane had stripped her of the clothing that reeked of another male, throwing it aside with a snarl.

She was laid on the bed in a nest of fleece, wrapped in the scent of the Alpha's coat, her back against the softness. Unfocused and uncaring, she felt her legs spread, his body moving between them, so much warmer than the cold room. He took her arm, laid the crook of her elbow over her closed lashes, and said softly at her ear. "Do not open your eyes."

She mumbled a reply; her vague mind in agreement that closed eyes were a good thing; the purr drawing Claire pleasantly to the undercurrent of exhaustion. Warm hands, calloused and soothing, ran down her stomach then disappeared. There was a click and a groan, then a sigh of eased pain. Something small clattered against the concrete floor; all this ignored by the exhausted Omega.

The warm hands were back, spreading her legs wider, and then something entirely new. The firm press of lips and the flicking dart of a tongue. He was tasting her, assuring she remained untainted by another... purely his. Finding her uncorrupted, the Alpha growled savagely. The sound made her body bow and her pussy respond with a small stream of slick at the call. Bane noisily sucked it all into his mouth, swallowing and groaning, lapping it up.

Claire sucked in a gasp before a choked cry, arching up, her eyes flying open. All she could see in the haze was his face buried between her thighs, Bane's eyes closed as if the feast were perfection. He sensed what she'd done, his grey eyes coming open, and with a warm hand pushed her chest until she was forced back to the bed. Growling between her legs, the lower part of his face hidden, Bane continued to devour her.

When a tongue delved inside the tight canal, she squeezed her eyes shut, breathing hard at what the man was doing to a body caught between dreaming and waking. Bane tongued at her greedily, groaning as her lips swelled pink and copious slick began to flow. The tip of his tongue licked over her rim, dipped into her tunnel, and ended with a flick at her swollen clit before the beast growled like an angry wolf, "You have been exceptionally disobedient; a difficult and defiant mate."

Panting, crying out when he dove right back in, Claire argued with the apparition, "It's your own damn fault! You are a tyrant. You expect things I do not understand. I hardly know a thing about you. You don't listen... keep me locked underground. How would you like to live in prison?"

Bane chuckled evilly, griping her hips to still her writhing, and gluttonously pulling her dripping cunt closer to his mouth.

Between caught gasps and deep throaty moans, Claire accused, "All you ever do is fuck me!"

She felt his teeth when his lips curled into a smile. Bane answered, his deep growl rich and thick with lecherous satisfaction, "I _greatly_ enjoy fucking you."

Each lap of that tongue, as he burrowed and sucked was making her mind war between delusion and abject lust. She wished he'd disappear and the dream could just end, but his teeth lightly bit the little nub exposed when his thumb pulled back the hood, causing her to twitch wildly, accusing, "You force me."

He rebutted, nipping and sucking, "I always make sure you feel pleasure when we mate."

Breathing out the truth on an unhappy moan she declared, "That is not true."

"I punished you once by rutting you without your gratification, and ascertained that it was not the best way to discipline your bad behavior. I have not done it since." Once the words were finished he attacked her clit with rapid flicks of his tongue, a pleased growl coming from smiling lips when his little one began practically sobbing from the intensity of his attention her trapped hips could not escape.

When Claire was right at the cusp of falling to pieces, Bane licked a trail up her body, leaving her aching pussy wanting as he climbed over her. A nipple was captured, suckled almost too hard until the bud lengthened and Claire writhed against him, desperate for the friction he'd taken away from the place that needed it most. It all felt so good it just could not be real, the cold plate of his armor rough against her swollen chest, his scent, the feel of the scars at the back of his neck as she embraced the nightmare.

Caught up in the mental tornado she whispered, "I just want to go home."

Distantly, Claire heard the grate of a zipper and then sucked in the heady smell of Bane's musky fluid when his member was exposed. Growling with a demanding arch, craving his swollen cock inside her at once, she moaned in delirium and the bulbous head pressed against her tight opening. Claire rolled her hips and drew the tip in, sighing as he began to merge with her.

With her distracted, Bane answered her plea, "I am your home," and took the one thing he had not been able to coax out of her yet. He captured her parted moaning lips with his own. It woke her partly from the spell, her lashes went up but all she could see was the lust filled grey eyes, challenging her, as Bane passionately gave his mate her first kiss. He invaded her mouth, dipping in deep so that he could share the taste of how perfect she had been on his tongue, ignoring her surprise and confusion.

Bane moved slowly in that first thrust, fighting her pulsing tight pussy to accept penetration after days left unclaimed, undulating his tongue in her mouth, until buried hilt deep between her trembling thighs. Claire was awake, grasped in the fog that everything was real; he saw it in her eyes, and began to thrust into the dripping heat. She tried to take her mouth away. To prevent it he cupped her cheek, running his lips over hers as much as he desired, knowing she recognized what he'd done, how he'd taken that last barrier, a thing he knew she'd denied him.

It was all so intoxicating, consuming, and infinitely disturbing. Claire grew frenzied and he began pounding with vigor, working her up until she was writhing and crying out, needing release, needing sleep, needing him to give her all those things and more. Bane turned her head to the side, his palm braced on her cheek, blocking her view, holding her turned away so that his lips could suck a trail down the exposed side of her throat.

She never saw his face; he made her look away and hid it from her, set her eyes back to that name carved into the wall.

_E. Nigma._

The feeling of his mouth, his tongue on her skin, the frustration that he had taken her kiss but hidden what was under the mask, blended with the delusional ecstasy. Bane's hips rocked faster, almost violently, fucking her in earnest, knowing she would come soon. The second her pussy clenched and her undoing began, he shoved in deep, his knot swelling huge, stretching her mercilessly. Claire's orgasm shook her so hard it hurt, her pussy milking him forcefully as Bane groaned, barred his teeth, and bit down brutally on the scar on her shoulder. Something akin to a crunch sounded when his teeth broke the skin and blood began flowing at once.

Claire screamed, calling out to him, the agony of the ferocious bite overwhelming. Bane only bit harder, locked with a massive knot to his mate, holding her thrashing still, and marking her again so savagely it would take weeks to heal. With each spurt of hot come, Bane growled low and beastly, knew she took as much pleasure from his cock as his teeth gave her pain, and bit even harder. The Omega was sobbing when it was finished, bleeding badly, and so overcome that she hardly even knew where she was.

"Shhhhh," he whispered, licking at the flowing blood, hushing her gently while she wept, her face still held turned from his. He gave her the purr she'd wanted, petting and stroking, his lips at her ear. "Now you may sleep, little one."

Everything had been too much. Too much fear, too much heartache, too much anger, too much desire... Overwhelmed, Claire closed her eyes and just gave over to the thing her body needed most. Bane put his mask on, tucked her arms into the sleeves of his massive coat, and wrapped her around his neck and waist. With his knot still joining them, he walked out the door where Barsad had been standing guard, her naked body and his genitals covered by the drape of his coat.

The Omegas were still being herded onto the buses prepared to take them to Blackgate, a few snarling, others screaming, but the majority simply scarfing down the protein bars his soldiers were passing out.

Claire missed it all in her dead slumber.

* * *

**To everyone who left a review, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I appreciate that you took the time; it means a lot after the hours put in on the story to hear your feedback. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

There was no warm haze Claire was waking from, no sense of flushed contentment or deep soothing breaths. It was abject exhaustion that was hardly chipped at despite the dead sleep that had held her under for god knows how long. The first thing she noticed was a deep-seated ache that drew her brows down and only grew worse as she shifted. Sleep's fog began to lift and she groaned, feeling as if someone had run her over with a steamroller, wrung her out... left her wasted. Her mind still had not caught up with reality, with the return of hated imprisonment. Confused, dark lashes parted and there was nothing but subterranean dimness and walls of grey.

It was the smell that brought it all together, the nest of familiar soft blankets rich in the musk of her mate.

_Not mate..._ Claire reminded herself. _Bane._

Hating that his heady scent seemed to bring a reassurance in her discomfort, that the thread was humming delighted, telling her it was okay to feel weak so long as he was near to watch over her... that everything was back as it should be. The worm pulsed and soothed and grew warm in her chest. It was that manipulative pair-bond that had distorted her in the first place. Bane's influence that broke her apart day after day when she ignored her mate's call to return, that led to exhaustion and delusions. Now it was writhing in contentment, spinning a web of the seductive lie of shelter and safety.

It was stronger than before, that cord humming between them, felt tighter in her chest. Maybe it was because of his total victory over her, or maybe it was because she had stumbled straight to him in her need for sleep... Claire didn't know. All she did know was that the struggles, her denial and stubbornness, had been for nothing. They were bound; even in her hiding he'd exercised control.

That grey walled room that met her blurry eyes was not shelter. It was her prison. Bane had been real, not a hallucination brought on by fatigue. He had her in his cage, she was back under his thumb... and she would probably never leave that room again.

Swallowing down the distress, Claire began to realize he was nearby, his great weight dipping the mattress where he sat. It was probably the reason she was so close to the edge, having rolled down the slope him toward him. The idea that she might have scooted closer of her own free will in sleep, one she refused to acknowledge. The totality of the awareness and the disdained acceptance made her look at the man sitting at the edge of the bed and frown.

Bane was facing the wall, his elbows on his knees as he stared forward lost in thought. It was rare to see him half dressed. He was either totally, unabashedly naked or fully clothed. But there he sat shirtless with the thick leather brace wrapped tight around his middle and one on his wrist. She followed the line of scars down his spine, a thing she ignored unless in the throes of passion, and let out a troubled sigh.

Licking her dry lips, Claire sat up a little before falling back to the pillows with a curse. Pain shot through her and, sucking in a surprised breath, green eyes went to the source of such hurt only find blood soaked gauze. The broad expanse of bare muscled back rippled as Bane turned his head to look at the recaptured woman over his shoulder, grey eyes blank. Bane's air was not one of impended punishment, nor was it one of offered comfort. He seemed static, yet those grey eyes were watching her as if she were troublesome and easy to smash.

Abashed by such an expression, Claire glanced quickly away, her attention turning to her bandaged shoulder. Unsure why she felt guilty under his appraisal, why she was tempted to apologize, she instead focused to the task of peeking under the bloody gauze. What she found almost made her retch. The wound may have been cleaned and dressed some time while she slept, but it was an oozing, a sluggishly bleeding mess, swollen and bruised and utterly disgusting.

No wonder it hurt so badly. Bane had maimed her.

Unforgiving grey eyes bore down on her, watching as she pressed back the dressing with revulsion. "Perhaps now you will remember that you have a mate."

Narrowing her eyes in distrust and anger from what he'd done, Claire formed a the snarl on her lips. Anger was replacing all the other badly blending emotions, taking over in her pounding head as Bane reached out a hand to look, pulling back the gauze to see the bite mark for himself.

He seemed pleased. "That will scar nicely."

It would scar horribly... twenty times worse than the last mark he'd made.

Tired of intimidation, and fear, and silence, Claire sat up again, ignoring the agony of an unresponsive arm. Green eyes flared, her small hand covering the dressing as if to shield it from him. Showing her teeth she looked to the male and actually growled at him, "You will not be punished? Then what is this? How would you like it if I tore a chunk out of you?"

Bane raised a brow and challenged, leaning forward, the intensity of his gaze hard, "You may mark me if you wish."

Something at his words sent a jolt through her being, and the angered animal inside her peeled back it lips and bared teeth.

_Yes, that is what you want! You must rip your teeth into him until he scars. _

With a snap of speed, Claire rolled out from under the blankets, her nails already digging little red moons into Bane's biceps as she scrambled to the position where she would sink in her teeth. Somewhere in the haze of action she recognized that the beast was holding still, that no great swiping arm had sent her flying in response to her aggression. Her instinctive reaction had been so very quick, so mindless, that she only caught herself a second before biting when an unexpected wave of dizziness made her vision swim and the room go a little dark. After a shaky breath, reason returned. Feeling ill she reminded herself of her mantra.

_Only instincts._

Confused by how badly she still wished to bite, how everything inside her told her it was her right, that she needed it, Claire slumped, still exhausted. Bane's hands were already on her waist, steadying her as she dropped her forehead to his collar bone to catch her breath. He smelled like hers, the thread was overwhelming with the heat of his body so near, gratifying in his proximity, and her mind was caught crushed between two warring forces of resolve for her freedom and tempting submission to the allure of compliance.

_Is he not being gentle?_ It sang to her.

Why did it have to feel so good when he shifted her closer, holding her so that she could find herself in whatever had overcome her senses? With her face pressed to the naked skin of her tormentor it only took a moment to grow steady and fight the urge to tell him to purr. She could feel very clearly in the tie that Bane knew what she wanted, but was only waiting for her to ask... so that he might make a point. The thread was ill appeased when she denied herself the abasement and him the victory.

After a minute she slowly unhooked her claws from his arm and was back in control of her urges, stubborn and resolute in her resistance. Her head was still spinning when she looked up, green eyes locking on the liquid grey that watched as he always watched her, like a wolf licking his chops. She made a move as if to climb off his lap and return to the warmth of the bed, but his arms held her firm, settling her body where she was straddled comfortably against him.

A finger traced down her spine reminder her that she was naked... a state he had seen her in so many times there was little shame in it. He had her attention, cupped her cheek and held her in a grip of iron.

"There are topics that must be discussed," it was said conversationally but his eyes were intensely focused, daring argument. Through the thrum of the thread came concentrated demand. "To begin, you will tell me where you have been for the last eight days."

Her voice seemed to catch, worn from all the screaming at the asylum, "I was offered shelter after I collapsed in the street by a man who was kind to me, who listened, and who tried to help."

The heat of his massive palms kneaded deeply into her lower back, pressing her closer as Bane asked levelly, "Who was this man?"

Claire shook her head, frowning and bracing to receive punishment for the words she was about to speak. "I won't let you kill him because he was noble."

There was the slightest of squints, caused by a smirk hidden by the mask. Bane's voice was still lyrical, oddly complacent, and a total lie. "Perhaps I wish to reward the Beta whose stench saturated your clothing. After all, he tended to my runaway foolish mate."

"You wish to know how to reach Commissioner Gordon." Claire knew the Omegas he'd captured would spill every word she had told them in their fear. They might have lost themselves in despair and starvation but Claire had been made stronger being fed as Bane's pet and she would not give the Alpha information to help hunt down his adversary.

Threading large fingers into her hair, Bane began to comb out the tangles from her sleep. "Do you know where he is?"

"I do not. He came to me. But even if I had learned his location I would not tell you."

"Do you think that your loyalty to those men will save them from judgment?" A hiss of breath, hinting at his true rancor, passed out of the mask.

Claire straightened her spine and fought to keep sadness from weakening her voice as she met the controlled wrath of the mountain. "They were the only ones who offered to actually help, who wanted nothing in return, respected me as person and not as an object... I will not say a word that might help you hurt them." After a sniff she raised her chin, all defiance and haughty determination. "You may have the Omegas under your control, you may have me back in this room, but you will never claim my integrity or honor."

A finger traced the line of her jaw, grey eyes almost soft as they searched her face. "You are still so defiant."

"I am still Claire."

Unexpectedly the purr rumbled, soaking into her where their naked skins touched, soothing her rankled belligerence. When Bane spoke it was almost indulgent, "You are. Wayward and foolishly noble... I find it is not disappointing."

Why was he looking at her softly? Why was he saying nice things? Narrowing her eyes, suspicious even as the purr of Bane's music saturated into her, Claire wondered at his game and looked down at his chest.

Bane's thumb brushed her lips, "Did you miss me, little one?"

The dark fan of her lashed went up, emerald green eyes a bit too large for her face, found his and Claire could not bring herself to answer. She had missed him. Missed his smell and the purr, missed the calm he cultivated with precision, but all that was the result of indoctrination from the bond. She had not missed the constant feeling of being trapped; watching day by day as more pieces of herself was peeled away.

"Answer me, little one?" He was using that power he had through the bond, making the thread knock about in her chest.

Looking lost, Claire spoke what she knew, "You have invaded my mind."

"And your body," he added in a low growl, holding her just a little firmer.

"And my body," Claire agreed, her expression brokenly resigned. "Is that what you want to hear?"

The words were hard, and he looked at her with irrefutable challenge. "You will not run again."

The pair-bond had grown so overwhelming that even if she did, there was no chance for true freedom. The dreams, the waking hallucinations, Bane would be with her no matter where she tried to hide. But knowing that and accepting it was not the same thing. Claire wanted freedom, she wanted to choose.

"Bane," she spoke his name, a thing that was rare unless in the throes of passion. Almost as if confessing she admitted sadly, "I needed to breathe fresh air. I needed to see my sky."

His purring ceased.

"The sky," Bane said the word as if the idea of the thing were overrated. There was a hiss of a deep breath through the mask. "I lived a large portion of my life without the sky... when I did finally see it, all it was was a blinding source of light. Your sky is nothing special."

Bane had never once shared anything of a personal or historic value. Intrigued at the strangeness of such a statement, Claire's brows furrowed and she asserted, "You make it sound like you were buried underground."

Growling at her, explaining almost harshly he began, "You think you know what prison is, little one. You do not. I was born in one, raised amongst the worst possible sorts of men... If I wanted food or water, I had to kill for it. Shelter, supplies... everything was hard earned. What you call rape is nothing compared to what went on in that pit. You live in safety and comfort; I tend to you and sooth, see to your needs, and still you complain for your sky." At the end of his tirade his voice was utterly disgusted.

It could not be true, there was no such place in the modern world... was there? Bane was a monster out of frightening stories, a man who remorselessly created suffering, who seemed to understand the dark workings of the human mind as if they were second nature: the accent, the fluidity of movement of a man who knew how to kill as if born with the knowledge, the scars, his view of what constituted _her needs_. Is that why he was the way he was? It seemed that such a monstrous history could not be true, but there was no hint of falseness in the hum of the cord between them. Claire just stared, her mind piecing together his words, looking for the flaw, for the lie.

"You claimed to know nothing of me, now I have spoken and you are mute. Are you going to say nothing?" The bent words sounded irritated.

Claire inched her face a little closer to his to see the emotion in the eyes above the mask. He was so intent on her expression, so very concentrated in his regard.

When she spoke she wondered at her words, "And by isolating me from the world, is it your intention for me to become like you?"

The questions seemed to momentarily confuse him. After a brief pause Bane spoke plainly, "I want you to become amenable, to stop resisting, and to look objectively instead of with bruised emotions that have never served you."

"And I am just supposed to forget what you've done?" Hurt was in her eyes as she laid out his transgressions in a soft sad voice, "You took me against my will, offered no help to my cause... only seized for you own. You have captured the Omegas and even now hold them in captivity only to give them away to strangers... you see us as objects. Do you not understand why I feel so resistant, why I am afraid?"

He purred just a little, almost inaudibly at her last words. Her expression was crumbling, everything she had hoped for in regard to the Omegas, gone. It was final... her struggles and worry for nothing. And so fucking ironic that she had actually managed to find the help they needed, just not soon enough to prevent what seemed now as inevitable. A few weak women had brought down the hammer, had convinced the pack to behave like animals.

Claire's weeks of worry over their livelihoods had been a festering sore, had eaten at her waking hours in the grey prison. Now that it was lanced, and their fates were sealed, she was only disenchanted. Resolution, though not the one she'd hoped for, somewhat made the pain less acute, but the scar and the bitterness would always be there. Utter disappointment in the world and in her mate.

_Not mate... Bane._

A hand came up to cup her cheek again, his large thumb stroking over her bone structure despite the Omega's unwelcoming expression. "Your own kind betrayed you. Do not waste your thoughts on those that are unworthy."

Looking deeply into those familiar grey eyes she asked softly, "Were any of them hurt?"

He spoke to her directly, "No wounds of consequence. Three will go to judgment and they will be hanged."

Her voice was a horrified whisper, "For what reason?"

Bane's broad back expanded before his answer hissed through the mask. "They attacked my mate and tried to sell you to me. Thought to barter a life I already own to assure their own comfort... Do not imagine they had any regard for the others either. Those women had no intention of returning to share the spoils."

Claire clutched at the hand he held to her face, pleading, "Please don't kill them. Lillian and the others were starving, afraid, and desperate."

"So were you." Narrowed eyes flared. "More afraid then they were. And you were, and are still, trying to be their champion."

Looking down at his chest, Claire muttered, "I am a piss-poor champion."

"You did fairly well considering the odds," he acknowledged quietly. "Your flaw was assuming there is good in this city when there is not. That is why you lost."

"I know you are wrong. Some of those women are my friends... they are good people. Those who attacked me, I do not know them well, but I would rather show mercy then condemn desperate starving women tempted by the lie of food you broadcasted on your flyer."

"And that is why you are weak." It seemed almost a compliment. "And why I am strong."

"You are stronger than me," Claire acknowledged, studying the mask. "You're faster, have power, but you lack something so great and you will never find it in the life you live.

"Do I?" It was as if he knew what she was going to say, found her little opinion juvenile and cute. "Do you speak of love?"

She shook her head, black tangled hair waving around her shoulders, "Not love. Anyone can love."

"Then what, little sage?"

"Humanity... the source of joy. You may have had it once, but whatever you lived through and the choices you have made have eaten it away."

He hummed at her, unconcerned with her judgment. "I understand humanity at its basest level and have far more experience in the world than you do, little one. The way the citizens are behaving... such as those women I am going to hang no matter how much you may beg or cry... proves the point that they were never good; even before starvation. Suffering merely draws out the true primal core of each wasted life festering in Gotham."

"The way you speak, you make it sound as if you believe you are offering enlightenment by knowingly crafting misery," Claire scoffed, shaking her head, surprised they were even communicating and he had not just started fucking her to shut her mouth.

It was the same stormy furry that rolled through his eyes when her words displeased him. Claire was still afraid, afraid of the monster that could so easily crush her; afraid of the effects of the bond, but Bane seemed still and almost willing to let her speak.

"The books that you keep," Claire breathed softly, looking to the shelving across the room. "You have such a strange collection... a veritable training manual on how to be a dictator. But then there are soft things. Poetry, books by great spiritual leaders and virtuous human beings. Do you read them to try to remember what you are missing? What is it that you are trying to be?"

Bane stated with pride, "What I am is an instrument of change."

She whispered the words, mesmerized by the exchange, "What are you trying to change?"

"The world."

Claire scowled and looked back at her captor. "Through terrorism?"

"Someone has to show the masses what happens when injustice runs rampant. This city is a cesspool filled with corruption, greed, vice, apathy, and base foul behavior... Gotham is a breeding ground of evil and must be cleansed."

Thickly lashed green eyes went wide. "You have become something monstrous to be the greater evil... as some kind of example."

"You have grown wiser, Miss. O'Donnell."

The fact that he had used her last name was almost chilling. Her end of the thread began to hum out of tune, the connection to such a creature unwanted again and abhorrent. "You don't want power at all... you want the city to destroy itself, to wallow in what your occupation has inspired."

She could tell there was some sort of conceited smirk, an evil thing, hidden under the mask, "Continue, little one."

Her voice was astonished, as slight understanding of the man and his reasoning came together. "You think you are some kind of hero... like Batman or-"

Growling in a snap of anger, Bane cut her off, "Batman is no more. I broke his spine over my knee when he dared to oppose my rule. He was a traitor and a thing so beneath me I caution you on saying his name in my presence."

That was personal... Bane _personally_ disliked the man.

Claire had to know. Heart racing, she tempted fate and asked in a whisper, "How was he a traitor?"

"He was a fallen member of my order. That is all I will say."

Her jaw dropped. Batman had been one of these monsters, had turned away from an army to do what he felt was right. To encourage and inspire instead of destroy. And the vigilante had come out after years of hiding to challenge this Alpha and lost. Thoughts started to surge, and her mind raced to the point of dread. Claire shivered once and almost wished she didn't know; wished she, like many in Gotham, still had faith that the Batman would save them from this tyranny.

"So now you see..." Bane placed his mask to her neck and pulled in her scent, flexing his hips to press the growing erection in his pants between the soft legs he'd pulled to wrap around him. "There is no one to save you. You have only me."

If he hadn't started purring at that very instant she might have begun to scream.

Bane's hands went to his belt. He felt her tremble and resist as he striped off the remainder of his clothes, yet managed to keep his resistant weakened mate on his lap very easily. Feeling the curves the food he'd provided had added to Claire's body, the hungry growl was made and the second she was remotely wet enough he lowered her down on his straining erection.

The pace was almost languid. Her head buried against his shoulder as he lifted and lowered her, the panic broken apart by distracting physical carnality each time he thrust into her womb. There would be no escape, all her fighting had been for nothing, these things he whispered to her, almost gently at her ear. Claire would not show her face, or the silent tears; her only view the sight of his thick cock, shiny with slick, leisurely infiltrating her core, disappearing inside her, just as his taunts penetrated her mind.

When he stroked a hand up to grip her neck and pull her closer until her breasts were flush to his chest, the location of their bond in contact, Bane held her were Claire's wet green eyes were compelled to meet his. With her attention where he wanted it, he demanded in a growl, "Kiss me."

Claire looked him dead in the eye and felt it begin all over again. "No."

It was his show. It was always his show. Her life was his, her body too; but so long as the beast wore the mask, her lips were her own.

Her challenge only excited Bane more. With a low animal growl his cock throbbed inside her and what had been soothing became an all-out carnal attack. He turned them about, bouncing her on the mattress and pounded into her core. He did not stop until she screamed out to him, filled the air with sobbed moans of his name. Bane had her by the scruff of the neck, felt the strength of her climax lock on to his cock as he swelled and secured her to him, all the while the pad of his large thumb grinding against Claire's swollen clit. It was merciless, and he pushed her past pleasure and to a point of overburdened sensation.

She tried to writhe away from his finger, the friction too strong, but could do nothing trapped by the knot. Begging in breathless catches of sobs, Claire panted, "Bane, please stop."

Watching her lips form the words, dissecting the tortured desire and uncontrolled pleasure, he pressed even harder. Snarling like beast he as gushed in large spurts, painting her womb with hot seed. "Who do you belong to?"

There were tears leaking from eyes squeezed shut as she jerked and twitched from his abuse of her clit and the cramping orgasm he was prolonging. "Pleeease, please stop... I can't..."

"WHO DO YOU BELONG TO?"

She was going to die, it was too much, the pleasure so great it was agony. Everything went white, as if the world was made of nothing but blinding light that stripped her skin away. Back arching, she sucked in air, like the first gasping breath of a newborn, and felt another wave of a devastating contraction in her core. With a face full of pained pleasure, Claire gasped out, "I belong to you."

"That's right, little one," came a voice as if leagues away. The pinch on her nerves abated and she sobbed when the over-strong, extended climax started to end. More waves of hot semen burned her from the inside when Bane purred, "You belong only to me."

The punishment had been brutal and it took him almost an hour to sooth her trembling muscles and ragged breath. Eyes shut tight, Claire burrowed into him, pressing hard; worried that should the contact vanish she might cease to exist.

With a stroke, soothing in nature, down her hip and back up again, the monster explained in a low soft rumble, "If I ever smell another man's scent saturating you again, I will hunt down the male and rip off his limbs while you watch... And then I will fuck you in his blood."

Her fingers simply clawed where she clung, digging in deep to the possessive Alpha's skin in response to the threat. "When you speak that way it frightens me."

Strangely, he softly hushed her as if comforting a child and gathered Claire tighter in his embrace.

* * *

He just could not believe it... Shaking his head, hurting for her, Blake moved through the halls of Arkham Asylum. Deep in his gut he felt responsible, should have known the Omega would do what she felt was best and hated himself for not seeing the signs. He was as angry with himself as he was with her.

Waking up on that couch, a crick in his neck from the odd angle, he realized at once what she'd done. Leaping to his feet, cursing up a storm, he'd gone out to look for her. At the food trucks where gossip was always traded by those waiting for rations it was impossible to miss the news. Word had come back quickly about a mass seizure of prisoners by Bane's men from the ruins of Arkham Asylum. All carted off in the night.

It seemed Gotham did not know the true nature of what the despot had apprehended, most assuming it was an enclave of rebels or more of the hated rich hiding in squalor. It could not be farther from the truth. Bane had taken the weakest of them all. Blake did not know how Bane had found the Omegas but after seeing the flyer and the outrageous bounty he... he suspected that one of their own had betrayed her.

The thought broke his heart.

Blake knew this city, he understood what she was up against. Innocent Claire was too idealistic, sweet, and no matter how willful she was, still Omega... She saw the world through the eyes of a caretaker, a nurturer, not a warrior.

Blake had made his way to Arkham to see for himself, disguised as looter to pick through the warren like the rest of the vultures already stealing the goods left behind.

Claire's smell was lingering in the air, heady with anxiety, powerful from the sweat she must have worked up when she ran to her friends. Blake followed it, ignoring the deserted personal items scattered around the rooms, the dolls and clothes... abandoned card games. Her trail ended at a cell where, once the door was pushed open, Blake found trapped air that reeked of sex. Bane had fucked her the moment he found her, that was clear not only from the smell, but the sight of the discarded sweater and pants Claire had been wearing. Blake's own clothes he had specially prepared for her.

Crouching down, he lifted the fabric and brought it to his nose, pulling in a breath of the Omega, then bowed his head, feeling like a failure. After a moment of silent prayer, Brown eyes came into contact with something that had rolled under the cot. Reaching carefully so as not to poke himself, Blake pulled out a used syringe. It seemed a very strange thing. Bane would not have needed to drug her to take her away. The woman had been barely able to stand. But it had been used recently, for it was clean, not a remnant from the old days... but what was it?

Punishment? Some kind of torture Bane had prepared? Drugs?

Carefully wrapping the syringe in the sweats, Blake continued his search. Determination began to blister inside him. He may have failed Claire, but her information about the pills had brought to light other Omegas in need, and the cops, led by Foley, were already preparing to strike. Blake would help them like he promised her. After all, what as the point of resistance if one didn't actually fight back?

* * *

**The reviews, as always, rocked my world and made me move my ass on getting this posted for you. Thank you, every one of you, who left a comment. Kindly do so again, and let me know what you think of this chapter. I love you all!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Blake had a difficult time finding respect for a man like Deputy Police Commissioner Foley. Foley's arrogance and short-sighted need to be right drove Blake up a wall. On more than one occasion the other Beta had simply refused to see the facts and argued without listening, while Blake stood by and bit his tongue to keep from cursing out his superior officer. But something had changed in Foley in the months since the city fell. It was clear the man harbored a massive weight of guilt for his own part in it, for his failure to see past his own nose. Foley tried much harder, spoke much less, and seemed as grimly determined as Blake to right at least one wrong if he could.

Even for that, Foley was still passive when it came to action toward Bane. But when Blake introduced Foley as his boss to the dealers and pimps, something about the Omega situation, maybe the blatant horrors and torture they witnessed together, had got to the man.

The weather was nasty, even at midday it was almost dark, the swollen sky overhead as unwelcoming as the guards outside McMillan's Imports when they showed up for their meeting. You could smell the drugs cooking, that chemical tinge in the air. More so, you could hear the needy calls of the women, begging for a release from wherever the saggy faced dealer had them locked away.

There were about twelve men on the premises; half were armed, semi-automatic rifles slung over their shoulders, faces devoid of emotion, clearly habituated with the vileness that surrounded them, while the rest of the thugs twitched around the cooking drugs. The sleaze running the show, an older stocky Alpha named Otto, sat back waiting to meet the men who would be either fresh competition or profitable business partners. John nodded at the jowly dealer who had arranged the meeting with a slimy smirk, maintaining his appearance as a sick minded fellow like them.

Customers were already shuffling in with offerings to trade, pulsing with the need to knot a heated Omega. Two or three of them trickled in while Foley negotiated a price for the drugs. It seemed something as simple as a fresh piece of fruit, or a bag of rice could get an Alpha or Beta laid. There were stockpiles of food, crates stacked in a guarded corner almost to the ceiling. Business had been good.

Sniffing the air, finding the chemicals worked well to cover the sweet enticing scent of Omega slick, Blake asked the dealer while Foley chatted up Otto a short distance away, "How many you got in here?"

A cracked smile and those same brown teeth came into view. "Six bitches in heat now, two new girls we're just waiting on."

"New?" Blake edged a little closer as the group moved toward the sounds of panting women. "Got any dark-haired girls?"

"Yeah sure,"

They turned a corner and passed into the back of the building where the air was full of moans, and the lust inducing pheromones were far more prevalent. The animal deep inside Blake found it at once attractive, the human that controlled such urges found it repulsive. There they were, six woman chained to the wall with collars around their necks like dogs. Two were so emaciated from the continuous estrous, Blake was not sure how they were even still breathing.

Otto was explaining to Foley, gesturing at the writhing females, "The bitches are clean, if you don't want to wrap your junk, no need to here. And no worry of bastards, most don't make it past five weeks... We try to feed 'em but they only want to fuck. We get a line, sometimes a few hours long of johns trading loot just for a taste of snatch. We keep them hosed down between sessions."

Each was equidistant, just a bit too far from the others to touch. Even as they were given a tour of the hovel, a few were being rutted by the Alphas who'd come bearing food. They were nothing but livestock lying in puddles of water and slick, the hose in question still dripping a little water so the pipes didn't freeze.

The boss pointed thick fingers at two who were not yet in heat and cocked his head. "They's new. Fresh meat costs more. After our little arrangement is finalized I'll let you try 'em out first. And should you get your hands too full with what you have for your own fun, just uh, drop them off here and I'll make it worth your while."

Eyeballing the terrified naked women chained to the wall like some kind of sick advertisement, Foley asked, playing the part as he grinned and licked his lips. "When do you expect them to be ready?"

Pursing his lips in consideration, Otto sucked his teeth, "Prolley tomorrow."

"Then we'll leave half the payment now, in good faith," An evil hungry grin spread Foley's craggy face, "And tomorrow night we'll bring the remaining crates. I'm going to want more product in a month or two."

"You got it, buddy." The men shook hands.

Both Blake and Foley left the building, armed with the knowledge of the warehouse's internal layout and weak points. It was a Beta only operation, it had to be under the circumstances. There was little time to stake out further, not with the state of the women inside. Foley's team of eight Betas waited through the night, watching as a line of men gathered and dwindled. Things seemed quiet right before sunrise, and with haunted eyes Foley ordered the assault.

Breaking in through the back entrance, the armed police moved in trained unison and caught the overconfident thugs half asleep, three distracted in the rut. There was no mercy, the city was a warzone and far past that point. In the end only three of the savages, including the foul Otto were alive, bound in the middle of the room as the cops began wrapping up and unchaining Omegas, needing to move them as soon as possible before the johns came calling at the gates or one of them fell into a rut from the smell.

There are things you see on the force, crimes so vulgar you just cannot believe someone was capable of committing them. It turned out that the little Blake and Foley had seen was only the beginning. Behind a locked door were the spent lives of numerous skeletal creatures, piled up, frozen from the cold that kept them from rotting. Eleven murdered Omegas, bruised, beaten, gazing out of lifeless eyes at the nothing they had become.

Foley was staring at it, slack jawed, seeing one little girl who looked so much like his own that it took him a moment to register the shouting of his men. He rushed away, and found that the older of the two women that had yet to reach forced estrous had picked up a shard of glass once her hands were free and drove it into the necks of the three captives when the cops were distracted in their mission, killing them all.

Blake was talking to her in hushed tones but nothing seemed to get through the zombie-like expression, or the way she just stared at the men she'd killed.

"Shh-shh it's alright, put down the glass. We're cops, and we're gonna get you out of here ma'am."

Looking to the youth holding out his hands before him as if to placate her, a raspy voice managed, "They killed my Doug, and my baby."

"Please put down the glass."

Glazed eyes rolled back to the men who had chained her up, who had taken her life, and there was not even a moment of hesitation. She jammed the bloody weapon as deep into her throat as she could, even as Blake rushed toward her.

The Betas watched as John put his hands to her neck, frantic to stop her from bleeding out. They all knew, even Blake as he exerted the effort, that there was no way to save her from the gaping slash she'd sliced into her throat no matter how hard the young detective tried. All feelings of victory seemed to fade as that woman's blood spilled out and stained the floor. It was Foley who crouched down and closed her eyes while Blake held her, whispering a small prayer.

When the incantation to the mother goddess of Omegas was done, orders were barked, the tower of food disassembled and loaded as fast as possible. The operation took almost two hours, but they had been successful. The heat-addled Omegas were in safe custody and the place picked clean of weapons and supplies. The bodies had to be left behind; there was nothing that could be done for the dead.

All the cooking drugs were dumped, spilling together, filling the air with noxious fumes, the perfect recipe for the absolution of fire. The cops burned McMillan Imports to the ground, destroying the counterfeit heat-suppressants, the methamphetamines... the evidence of the atrocities that had been committed there. The one thing the fire could not burn away was the memory of that place and the horrible things they'd seen.

* * *

Tiredly, Claire slipped her legs from under the warm blankets and pressed her healing feet to the ground. She felt… off, almost like the lethargy that comes before being sick, and was grateful Bane was not in the room to paw at her as he always did when she woke. He had punished her for her resistance, had frightened then placated, back to his old tricks of trying to warp her mind.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and groaned at the ache in her shoulder and the far more pronounced pain in her skull. Glancing around it was hard not to notice that everything was where it had been the last time she had been in the room. Her painting of poppies was only slightly moved, as if it had been handled and put back. Denying her impulse to center it, Claire looked at the painting, knowing Bane had done the same.

Claire had felt his rage at her escape but could see no sign of it in that space. Her meager things were exactly where she had left them. Almost as if she had never been gone. Even the bed sheets were the same, stale, as he had not changed them in her absence.

Standing, moving with a frown toward the bathroom, Claire peeled off the gauze at her shoulder and stood under cool water. It was hard to move her left arm without pain, shampoo stung her shoulder, and she found herself gritting her teeth at the discomfort it cost her to simply try to become clean. It was a frustrating experience and a constant reminder of Bane.

As if he had known she would want to bathe upon waking, there was a fresh sterile gauze pad and tape waiting for her on the counter. Wanting to cover the ugly mark so her churning stomach would not threaten to spill every time she looked at it, Claire dressed the wound. While carefully pressing down the tape, mindful of the bruising, her eyes caught something that shouldn't be. The small bin they used for their laundry displayed one of her dresses peeking out near the top. Considering she had been gone for eight days, it struck her as strange so she pulled it out and her brows shot up. The fabric smelled of her, but it reeked of Bane's semen... as if he had been sniffing it as he masturbated and came on her clothes.

The idea brought an unwelcome twinge between her legs and made her dig deeper to find that almost every item of her clothing had been treated the same way. Why would he do that... or more importantly... why did its smell so very good? Realizing she had it held up to her nose, a wave of heat made her cheeks burn as she briskly stuffed the offensive laundry back down. Cool water was splashed on her face and the fever seemed to pass.

In all her days of freedom she had fought not to think of Bane, not to question how their separation might have affected him... not allowed herself to wonder if he had suffered as she had. Her denial of his call, her denial of the bond, it had twisted her. What had it done to him? Had he worried she might have been hurt? No, Claire shook her head at the thought. He had felt her resistance and dread angled only at him. Even the bounty stipulated that she had to be brought in undamaged for reward. The man placed a lot of confidence on the greed of others... and it looked like his assessment had been correct. It irked her how completely confident he had been that he would get her back.

Why was she even thinking about him? Furious that she had wasted precious time alone on thoughts of her jailor, Claire left the bathroom, left her flushed reflection, and began to pace.

Absently, she looked about and found that the room just was not right. The bedding was unsatisfactory and she stripped it off, feeling slightly better when fresh linen was laid out. The painting had to be moved, to be centered. Head pounding she began to pace again, she was hot and cold, and thoroughly uncomfortable.

Worry for the Omegas was at the forefront of her thoughts. He said none had been wounded. Had he already killed Lilian and the others? He was probably killing them as she paced.

Her stomach rolled and for a moment she felt truly ill. The feeling passed, overtaking her dread and leaving her empty. This was it. Green eyes went over the grey walls, sweeping the room. This was her life. A man who seemed obsessed with keeping her hidden away, who was going to hang three women because they had tried to collect the bounty he'd offered... a possessive monster who wielded evil as a tool... a fiend who would say terrifying things and then cuddle her back to a sense of false comfort.

Bane was admittedly evil, had fashioned himself into what he was on purpose. They were completely different, in needs, in ideals, in the very makeup of their souls. But it did not bother him as it troubled her. Claire suspected he was actually fond of her opposition to a point. And they were pair-bonded forever.

Why was she thinking about him again?

She tried to lose herself in cleaning the room and singing into the air, determined to carve out the sharp anxiety from her rambling thoughts. But it was hard to find comfort when her insides were knots. Claire was confused, and worried her lip as she cleaned the table for the third or fourth time.

The worm was pulsing, indulging in her crazy behavior, whispering to her of how perfect this was, of the beauty of that grey walled room, of the prowess of her mate and how clever he was in retrieving her.

By the time Bane arrived hours later, Claire was resigned, sitting at the table with her head on her arms. Her mate had a tray for her, and looked over the room with approval of the way she had occupied her time. They did not speak. Claire simply sat up, pushing her hair behind her ear and frowned at the food.

It was a beautifully arranged chicken breast drenched in a savory sauce thick with mushrooms and garlic. Exactly the kind of cuisine Claire loved, but something about the smell was off. It had been difficult to eat those last few days of freedom, a side effect of fighting the bond, and she felt uncomfortable even as she reached for her fork to begin. The man was purring, he smelled of rich Alpha, all things that should have brought her comfort, all things her body and mind had demanded when she was in hiding... Even so she still could hardly force half of the dish down.

It should have been good and she should have been hungry.

Feeling unwell, Claire pushed the food away and felt she might vomit. He stood beside her, reached down to pick up the customary vitamin she tended to forget, and waited for her to take it in her hand. Palm up, Claire took deep breaths and waited for the tablet to land in her grasp. Eager to just get it over with, Claire tossed it in her mouth and gulped the water. When it was done, when the pill had squirmed down her throat, she began to gag.

A warm hand came to the back of her neck and pushed her head between her knees, the purr increasing in volume and strength. The wave of nausea passed but left her in a cold sweat. It had to be the stress, or maybe she'd picked up a bug. All Claire knew was that there was no fucking way she was swallowing another thing.

"Perhaps I should look at your claiming mark to see if you have signs of infection." It was not a suggestion, it was a command, and she knew it.

"Can you just give me a minute?" she breathed, doubled over and not at all eager to straighten.

"I will retrieve what is required; it will take several minutes that you may use to collect yourself."

The weight of his hand left her neck and Claire watched his boots disappear. Sucking in slow cooling breaths, she managed to uncurl and wiped the sweat off her face with her forearm. By the time he returned her head was hanging back over the chair where she stared at the familiar grey ceiling, still feeling like shit.

The beast approached with a, "Sit up straight."

A tray was set down filled with various medical instruments and two prefilled syringes. Eyeballing the strange assortment, Claire ignored Bane sliding the thin strap of her dress down. The tape holding the gauze was pulled carefully from her flesh, leaving red lines of skin in a box framing the nasty wound.

Swabs soaked in hydrogen peroxide ran coolly over hot skin, making the angry red marks fizz. Claire looked away, unsure if she was going to puke. Everything he was doing seemed to be as concise as possible, to minimize discomfort, the hulk bending down to see clearly and scrutinize as he breathed his metronome of hissing mechanical breaths.

She sat still through all the poking and prodding, extremely unhappy with the event, and just about ready to lose her cool and go hide in the bathroom. Ointment was smeared over the mess, fresh gauze taped down, and then he stuck a digital thermometer in her ear and nodded at the result... as if he had been expecting it.

When those large hands went to grab one of the syringes, Claire stiffened and asked quickly, "What are those?"

"This is an antibiotic." Bane held her arm as if she might yank it away and injected it quickly. She watched the needle leave her skin, a tiny bead of blood welling. When he came at her with the second one, his grip tightened and he stabbed it quite a bit harder into the meaty part of her bicep. While she gave an irritated ouch, he pushed in the plunger and said frankly, "And this is a much purer form of the fertility drug you had in your pockets when you came to the courts."

**"WHAT?" **

Claire was already shoving at him, beating at his arm with her fist to get him the hell off of her. She was livid, snarling when her thrashing did not even move him an inch. The man just ignored each blow and pressed a sterile cotton ball to the injection site, rubbing it in until her arm ached.

"YOU FUCKING BASTARD! HOW DARE YOU!"

Seemingly mellow, he explained, "That was your second dose. The first injection you had twenty four hours ago when I tended your shoulder upon arrival. That is why you feel ill."

The stomach acid, the cold sweat, the fever... it was exactly how she'd felt waiting in the courts magnified by ten. Only this time she was not terrified, instead she was about ready to kill him. While she screamed every obscenity she knew until red in the face, Bane simply held her arm and continued to rub in the drugs.

She was not due for another estrous for at least three months, five if she was lucky, and this jackass was forcing one on her.

"Why would you do this?" she demanded, spitting at him. "WHY?"

Grey eyes went to hers, straightforward he explained without remorse, "I wish to breed you. Your body was too weak during your first heat to accept fertilization. You are stronger now, and the chance of successful impregnation is much higher."

"So you pump me full of drugs to breed me like a horse? Do you have any idea how fucked up that is? I have been pair-bonded to you for less than two months. This is insane! AND I WOULD HAVE CYCLED NATURALLY IN THE SPRING!"

Bane spoke, completely unconcerned about her outburst, "Time is a factor and, as an Omega, motherhood will only bring you joy."

Claire was about to start tearing out her hair. "Bane, get the fuck out of this room! Take your poison and shortsighted assumptions about Omegas and LEAVE!"

When she saw laughter between his lashes she just lashed out and slapped him as hard as she could. The mask only made her palm hurt and Claire groaned from the pain as she squeezed her fingers into a fist and grimaced. He seemed calm, as if completely expecting her tantrum, and stood through it as she railed and tried to get up from the chair.

When she was a disheveled mess, hair wild and eyes threatening murder, she felt another wave of horrible feverishness, worse than before and growled like a beast, "I hate you!"

"You are hormonal."

Of course she was hormonal; he'd been pumping her full of hormones!

It came out from tightly clenched teeth. "You are a pig... a bad mate."

"I guarantee that you will like me much better in a matter of hours," he cooed evilly through the mask, the back of his fingers reaching out to stroke a cheek that she jerked away.

Claire just looked at him, at the smug victory that came to his eyes, and burst into tears. She did not know if this was some sort of fucked up punishment or just another part of her life he had in his control, all she knew was that everything about what he'd done was not okay. When he tried to pet her hair she slapped his hand away violently. "DON'T TOUCH ME!"

He let her bend over in the chair, her face in her skirt as she sobbed, and stood by through the good ten minutes it took Claire to get control of herself, for the wailing to distort into gasping hiccups.

"If you will stop this crying, I will take you outside for a short walk," Bane grunted, the jeering tone he'd been subtly manipulating in his voice gone.

She stayed bent, her face hidden, and slapped at the air in his direction. "Go to hell."

The thread, the little link between them had been so happy, so full and warm, only an hour before. Claire had mistakenly allowed it to lull her into borderline complacency. At that moment the thread was only pain, like a razor blade in her chest. She hoped to god it hurt him as much as it was hurting her, that the damn greasy cord was a two way sense of torture. But then she remembered that he was only a psychopath, with no heart, incapable of human emotion... that he was torturing Gotham on purpose.

Thinking of her mother, Claire understood everything that must have been going through that woman's head all those years... eating away at her until she just couldn't take it anymore. Her father may have been a decent man, but even Claire could see that her mother had not wanted him... that she longed for the female Alpha down the street that she could never have. How freeing her suicide must have been. Control of her destiny, of the one thing the pair bond wielding Alpha could not decide for her. The idea was growing appealing.

"I do not approve of the direction of your thoughts," Bane growled low and threatening.

Claire just ignored him.

Large hands circled her arms and pulled her up to stand. Refusing to look at him, Claire sniffed and turned her head to stare dejectedly at the far wall.

"We will go outside. You will see your sky and you will feel better." It was a command. "This emotional response from the medication will pass."

It was like he really had no idea how people worked.

All the signs of a steadily encroaching heat cycle were there: trembling shivers, cold sweat; her digestive tract shutting down. All the cleaning, the need for the room to be ready... Bane was right; in less than twelve hours she would be begging him to fuck her. She looked at him, glared, before suddenly covering her mouth when another wave of nausea came.

He let her go, watching as she ran to the bathroom to vomit. Between her stomach vacating retches, she distantly recognized that he was holding back her hair, that his hand stroked her back. Everything she had eaten was expelled until nothing but bile came up. She felt so utterly sick and so completely debased, sitting there on her knees with the very cause of her torment pretending to comfort.

"Why are you doing this?" She breathed even as he wiped a cool towel over her face.

"I desire offspring; a legacy."

"You're lying... I can feel it." Rational thought was returning and Claire struggled to crawl off of his lap where he cradled her on the floor, and get to the sink to rinse her mouth. "Even you must see that this is no place for a child."

He spoke with assurance, watching her brush her teeth and looming far closer than made her comfortable, "Pregnancy will calm you into the rightful state of mind. There is no need for you to be upset, little one. I will provide you both with safety and comfort."

Spitting, she snarled, "Safety? You just poisoned me. Comfort? I live in a prison!"

Deeply warning grey eyes narrowed above the mask, Bane was clearly losing patience that this little ordeal had not gone the way he anticipated. "It was necessary and it will only be beneficial to you if in your coming estrous cycle you should conceive."

Showing teeth, disgusted she spat, "Do not make this sound like it will benefit me. I am not stupid. I will be completely at your mercy; it will make me actually need you."

"You are already completely at my mercy. No more sulking," Bane took her by the scruff of the neck, the purr he'd incessantly pressed into the air never wavering as walked her back into the bedroom. "We will walk now."

Claire was not stupid. "Don't pretend it is an act of kindness. You want me to leave the room so that others can come in and prepare it."

"You are very clever, little one. A good trait for the mother of my progeny."

"And you are very evil," she answered back lowly, measuring the mountain with abject fury in her eyes.

Bane seemed to grow, to spread out into the dim darkness of her prison. "I can be. But I am also a man and I expect a child from the one I chose as mate. It is unfortunate that the timeline does not please you, but it is what I wish." A large palm was extended for her to take, not exactly an act of politeness and not exactly a threat. "Now come. I will escort you outside."

Claire had no coat and no shoes so Bane wrapped her in a blanket, wiped her face and smoothed her hair, purring loudly to keep her from snarling. There was absolutely no one in the halls he led her through, as if Bane had prepared and moved any men that might have encountered the Omega that belonged to him. Claire memorized every turn, each little landmark, building a map in her head, ready to bolt at the first opportunity. Through it all, Bane maintained a clamp on her hand, she wasn't going anywhere.

Their silent journey ended at the lower roof at the back of City Hall, a disappointing segment that offered little view. The bearded Beta was there, armed and staring straight ahead, but no one else. Her feet were freezing against the ground and a stiff wind pressed the fabric of the blanket against her legs. Flurries were falling, and though it was dark, there was an expanse of sky above her. As she breathed the crisp air, her chest filled with an ache, a deep-seated rotting piece of meat encased in ribs replaced where his actions had torn her up. Absently she began to rub at the spot while wet green eyes just stared ahead, wishing she could see stars. He was directly behind her, touching to offer body heat, and toying with her hair as it blew in the gusts.

Every part of her being wanted to shove him away, to pull her hair out of his fingers, but Claire knew that screaming at him in a rage in the room was the extent of what Bane would allow. Challenging him in front of a male, his subordinate soldier, would not end well for her. He had so much more to threaten her with now that estrous was approaching. If she pushed him hard enough he might go so far as to let his men at her, and she was terrified at the thought of being shared like a whore.

Staring up, sucking in cool pants of clean air, the nausea began to subside. Claire understood what was coming. She was young, fertile, and Bane's scent dripped virile male to her. They were extremely biologically compatible. He would create life within her. As if it were already an actuality, Claire looked down to her flat belly and pressed her hand to where in less than a week a baby would be growing.

The mask was at the back of her skull, Bane breathing deeply of her scent. "You are feeling better."

"I want to know why, Bane," Claire spoke quietly in a breaking voice over her shoulder, low enough that her words were only between them. "Why force my body without even asking me first?"

Tugging gently on her hair, exactly the way he knew would calm her most, he answered, "That does not matter."

Claire argued, her words a hiss of disgust, "It matters very much to me!"

Every sensation inside her was shouting warning, that constant knife edge she walked around the man tipping, and she was going to fall. He just started to purr louder and put an arm about her like an anchor. Claire knew that she was right. Bane did not want her to think of it, wanted to provide distraction. The purr, the fresh air, and the tugs on her hair, it was enforcing tranquility despite the cold sweat and discomfort of the drugs working inside her.

Turning around, her eyes level with the armor at his chest, Claire put her hand on the relative part of his body where her own worming thread was hooked into her ribs. Lifting wet spiky lashes to look up into expressionless grey eyes she said with a sick feeling, "This is where you are tied to me, where the bond is threaded. Perhaps you are incapable of feeling what you've done. But I do know this. Pair-bonded Alphas are supposed to care for their Omegas. But you do not... So why pair-bond to me? If all you wanted was a child you could have injected me with your drugs and seeded me just the same. Why make me carry the burden of an unfulfilling bond?" she demanded in a hushed whisper, emboldened by the scarcely contained chemical fury and a feeling of betrayal Bane only barely stifled by his purrs and pets.

He did not look away, but she got the feeling he was trying to look through her. After the space of three breaths, Bane spoke, "You are young and believe that you understand the world from your shortsighted idealistic perspective. You think you know much more than you do," he explained as if he were some great eloquent teacher, the music of his voice only just lost in the mask. "Sometimes it is as unsophisticated as a man simply wanting to because he could, saw a chance, and took it."

The giant was talking in circles and giving her nothing at all. Looking back at his chest, she took her hand from the place where she hoped he might feel something, some hint of regret, something for her beyond the idea of a possession. Claire's voice was emotionless as she shut off her feelings, "I will fight the estrous."

"You will try." A finger hooked her chin and brought her face back up. He was serious, his expression conveying his point. "But I am your mate and I will see you through this heat. I will tend you and give you pleasure, and when it is finished, you will give me what I desire."

"If I fail to conceive will you drug me again?"

Tucking back a strand of her hair he nodded and softly answered, "Yes."

Locked in that grey gaze, Claire muttered, lost and shaken, "My feet are cold."

"I am aware." He nodded once. "But I want you to experience your sky for as long as you can." Bane took a long breath through the mask then continued almost gently, "We both know you cannot be trusted, little one, and will not be seeing it again for quite some time."

Large warm thumbs were already there to wipe away the angry tears he knew would fall at the verdict.

* * *

Blake pressed his back to the wall behind him and tried to ignore the begging of the women locked in the room at his back. Only six beta cops had been allowed to remain on scene at the safe house, rotating who had to enter the room to force feed the heat-suppressants every four hours. They did what they could to block out the pheromones, wore masks drenched in Vick's Vapo Rub, moved as quickly as possible. Even so, it set the Betas into the rut and each man had been tested. Two had been dragged outside to breathe clean air when whoever was watching through the pane of glass saw the change come over their comrade.

It was not intentional, and not one of the women had been touched, the compulsion was simply an act of nature they prepared for with checks and balances. The cops tending to the Omegas worked as a team for that very reason. But even with their careful nursing one of the females, a body that was little more than skin and bones, had already died from lack of nutrition or maybe internal injuries. They were not sure and would never know.

No one knew what her name was when they buried her in the yard as deep as they could dig into the frozen earth. Her story was unknown, another Jane Doe left to rot by the occupation. The Omega had dark hair like Claire, a similar small frame, and as the dirt had been carefully laid over her, Blake felt sick, had almost cried, and went back inside before it was done, unable to look any longer.

Twelve hours had passed since the Omega's first dose. Through the small basement window, Blake could see that it had grown dark, and braced himself. He would be next to enter the room where the air was laced with the pheromones of five Omegas in chemically exaggerated estrous.

An alarm beeped and the cop who would watch over him as he shoved the drugs into the women's mouths said simply, "It's time, man."

Nodding, Blake stood. Took the offered mask they'd drenched in eucalyptus stink and grabbed the pills and water. The door was opened and he moved forward, unconsciously holding his breath to start left to right.

Their jaws opened willingly to suck his fingers. It was getting them to swallow that was almost impossible. He had to purr brokenly, which forced him to breath, and practically drown them until they managed to swallow the pill. He made it through all five, felt the fever, and backed away even as his cock began to pulse so hard it hurt. Once outside the room, he practically ran to get outdoors, his mind full of Claire and the moment of weakness he'd had at the apartment when the bathroom had just smelled so damn good and had made him so fucking hard.

The fact that even at that moment he wanted to reach into his jeans and jack off filled him with self-loathing. Blake fought it, stood in the cold for over an hour... just as all the other cops who had been in the room had. At length, he found himself, grew flaccid, and went back inside to continue his watch. He prayed to the god of the Betas that he would not have to go back in that room.

It took almost three full days for the Omegas to come out of estrous, and five more trips into the pheromone laced hell for Blake. As the females came to their senses they were confused and scared... most having been so high they hardly remembered what had happened to them. The ones that did remember were inconsolable or blank, like dolls with nothing inside. The cops gave them food, each man assigned to a suicide watch of one of the survivors and they moved into the living area of the house to bathe and find rest.

Another one died by morning, that vacant one... cause unknown. It was Foley who sighed and said it seemed she had just decided to stop breathing.

Blake buried her, knowing at least that her name was Kim Pham, right next to Jane Doe. That time he cried like a baby.

* * *

**Before I thank each and every one of you who reviewed and MUST thank RayneBowBrite for willingly allowing me to torture her with my grammar mistakes and bad spelling so that none of you had to suffer. Thank you for graciously beta reading for me!**

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	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Claire felt the very first stirrings, the first warning sign that it was time to fight estrous, as they stood out on the roof. When that wave of warmth hit her even as she shivered in the cold, she tried to hide it. It made no difference, Bane smelled the change at once and, without a word, she was lifted and carried down the halls back to her cage. Immediately she put space between them and began pacing back and forth. The march continued for hours, her stomach sour and her mood foul. The male seemed content to let her pace and wring her hands, noting at once that she refused to even glance in the direction of the nesting materials provided or the table full of foods prepared to see them both through what might be a lengthy seclusion.

The knots in her gut only grew worse and soon she was breathing hard and pressing her hand to her belly, wondering what the effects of his drugs were doing to a body nowhere near ready to ovulate.

"The discomfort will pass. There will be no long-term damage," a calming muted voice came from the corner.

Claire turned again and threw the unwelcome presence a long vicious growl, hating that he seemed to read her mind. Bane simply sat like a gargoyle too big for his chair, reading a book, and just turned the page. It was infuriating. She wanted him to leave the room, unused to being near a male in those uncomfortable moments of pre-estrous before the madness descended.

There was a catalog of tricks she'd learned over the years, small distractions to employ, and she was already listing them off. Already feverish, she started to blink and found her hands in her hair. She braided her locks, paced, unbraided, breathed shallow small breaths. The delicious smell in the air, the scent of a far too near Alpha, she pretended was something else. Orange blossoms from the orchards her dad had took her to outside Gotham every summer when she was a girl.

There was still time, if she persisted, hours that were hers before she developed the itch. Swearing to herself that she would last through them all, that she would not bow or beg, she began to remind herself. Hadn't she done this dozens of times? The soothing touch of her own hands began to run over her face and neck. The sudden pain as she stroked her shoulder sobering. Gasping, looking down at the bandage, she grinned and trilled her fingers over the discomfort as the pacing resumed. The movements that had begun as brooding cadence of marching had grown into something languid, with long deep musical breaths and feline movement sharpened by pain each time she fingered the bite mark.

Claire began to roll her shoulders and neck, popping bones, her mind going slowly into a fog. She drew in a deep breath and, at the sound of a purr, began absently humming. Something soft was under her hands, and the distracting haze vanished. The nesting materials all fluffy, new, and just waiting for her to claim, were in her arms. When she realized that she had already begun moving it toward the bed, her hand pulled back as if she'd been burned. Shrieking, she threw it about, scattering the temptation and heard him chuckle.

"You are doing fairly well, little one, but you will not last much longer," Bane spoke in a low magnetic murmur.

Her head turned very slowly toward the presence Claire wished miles away. She looked at the Alpha as if seeing him for the first time. Finding him naked she wondered how much time had passed and how she had not noticed him disrobing. The thought process halted and instead Claire took in the bulging grandeur of his massive proud cock and her green eyes began to ever so slightly dilate.

The Omega had lasted far longer through the initial stages than he had anticipated; her willpower equally infuriating and impressive. But there would be no more time wasted. It was clear her reaction to the injection was stronger than predicted, her temper and outright aggression almost cute as she fell further in. He had found himself watching, hypnotized as she sang under her breath and muttered about fields of orange trees.

"Come and kneel before me," he beckoned gently. "Let's end the charade. Allow your mate to tend to you."

"Kneel?" she spat in a threatening snarl that tore from her breast almost like a roar. "No, Alpha. If anyone is going to kneel, you can kneel before me."

When the beast began to stand, to look at her as one looks at prey, the angry Omega stood her ground and showed her teeth. Riled and determined, holding her breath as he had challenged her taunt, Claire lifted her chin. Bane went to his knees and began to purr again.

The tubes of his mask pressed to the place at the apex her legs and as he spoke she felt the hot air of his breath move through the cotton of her skirt. "Is this what you wish?"

His nearness was exacerbating the problem and watching him, knowing he had done it to further his agenda, Claire whined softly as the air left her lungs. Her next breath was full of Bane and almost immediately she felt the need to touch him, to press her nose to his neck and suck in his musk. Standing rigid and uncomfortable, she fought it until her muscles shook.

"Your eyes look very beautiful this way, little one." Bane crooned, watching as her green irises were slowly eaten up by dilating pupils.

He was not holding her, she could just walk away. One step then another, it would be simple. Instead she grimaced, feeling that first cramp of estrous slick. He smelled it at once and grey eyes flared. Standing with a flowing grace, Bane rubbed against her, pulling her dress in a swish of fabric over her head, taking charge now that her heat was full upon her.

From the Alpha's chest came the low demanding call to his mate, the male enjoying the way her body doubled over at his growl as more slick poured out and dripped down her legs. For hours he had controlled his own need to posture and pace so that she could have her little short-lived victory, but he was descending into the rut and every fiber of his being just wanted to fuck her. There would be no more restraint.

With her bent, he wrapped a hand around the scruff of her neck and pressed her lower. Fisting his cock, he rubbed the head of his manhood against her lips, spreading the beaded scent created to entice her into the frenzy and let out a low groan when he felt her stiffen and pant, resisting just a moment before the tip of her tongue flicked out as her resolve disappeared.

Lost at once, needing more, Claire fell to her knees and sucked the bulbous tip until his body gave her a mouthful of sweetness, knowing in her bones that nothing had ever tasted so delicious. Swallowing, she keened lowly in her dazed euphoria, knowing that the male who tasted so wonderful, who shared a bond with her, would fulfill the fevered need to be mounted, and sooth the ache away. It was his duty to fill her, to serve his purpose... to seed her and remove her discomfort.

"Is it not better when you don't fight it?" he asked, pulling her hair back to expose her face to his view, hungry to watch her lick at his cock.

For a moment Claire remembered herself, and realized what she had been doing, how naturally it had all come from just a taste of Bane. Looking into his eyes, knowing she held out as long as she could she said, "What you have done is wrong."

The warm pads of his fingers were burrowing against her scalp. "I am giving you life."

With her nose running over the heat of his groin, she panted, "I already had a life once, and you destroyed it." Even as she was speaking her voice changed from angered to aroused.

Clawing her way up his body, feeling the fury, lust, and vehemence blend with abject need, everything turned to impatience in her veins. Looking up, her black eyes wide and burning, she growled at the man, commanding in that low vibration that he do his job, even as he spun their bodies about and pressed her back into the middle of the mattress.

Snarling, Claire arched and held onto the mountain that slammed that throbbing cock into the tight place she was dripping from only for him. The cord was in harmony instantly once claimed by her Alpha, her pair-bonded mate. He had her on her back, her legs hooked over his arms as he attacked, ramming fast and deep, staring into blown pupils rimmed in green, as his little one howled.

He had enjoyed her during the Omega's first heat... but something was far more fulfilling in their battle that second estrous cycle. Bane was as high on her pheromones as she was on his, knotting her with shouted roars each time her pussy clamped down and milked his cock greedily for fluids, drawing out every last drop. Words were spoken they could hardly remember, shrieks of ecstasy and feral violence. Claire was so much stronger than before. Nothing compared to him of course, but she had no reservations in attacking if he did not please her. And Bane loved it, loved how he had to hold her down, to secure viciousness, and overtake his prey.

Claire slept in spurts, always lying on top of him how she wanted, not where he put her, claiming her rightful position and biting if he tried to rearrange her. When she woke the first time, Claire looked down at the mess of blankets and just knew they were all wrong. Shoving at the warm mass in her way, she growled, until it shifted, yanking her nesting materials out from under the Alpha.

As she began to build the nest, warm hands stroked, and the heat of a nearby body lingered at her side, sniffing her often, and running his fingers through the dripping slick and semen that ran sluggishly down her thighs between handing her pillows or whatever she demanded next. When it was done, Claire pushed him back into what she had built and she took what she wanted, a thing she had never done before. Riding his cock at her pace, watching him and relishing the way he stroked her body, she came powerfully, loving the look in his eyes at the tight grip of her cunt.

Bane laid still, gaze full of desire as he watched her lick the sweat from his chest, prowling over him, those black eyes utterly absorbed in his body; it kept him hard for days. When she grew tamer, and the overblown reaction to the forced estrous seemed to lessen, she would stay still long enough for him to scent her, for his big hands to rub the puddle of come that had leaked out of her womb all over her skin; to feed it to her as he purred and gave affection.

When the high was near the end, Bane moved in her gently, grey eyes watching her, seeing that she was smiling softly as she gasped in pleasure with each thrust. Running the tubes at the mouth of his mask over her leaking nipples he growled at what he found. Each little drop of pearl colored liquid she had created was for him and all he could do was smell what he needed to taste. Frustrated, his hips snapped, he clutched her too tight, and groaned at what the mask denied him. It would be so simple to take, but he needed her to come so he might knot her, and he needed her to spill more of the precious fluid... Because once she did, he was going to rip off the mask and suck it down while he had her trapped by the knot and she could not run.

He'd startled her and the black of her eyes was shocked out of momentary euphoria to find her mate had gone feral. Each over excited ram of his cock almost too pleasurable, shaking her until she started to writhe and twist.

His mask was at her ear, his breathing sporadic before he howled, "COME NOW!"

Something in his words, the absolute command, and her body responded, eye rolling back in her head as her climax was forced. Bane's knot swelled huge behind her pelvic bone, and the beast groaned loudly with each gush, even as his fingers were fumbling the fastenings of his mask.

He had it off and his lips to her nipple, pulling it into his mouth, feeling it pulsate as he sucked the sweetness. Strong hands held her in place, as if the female would panic, but all she did was arch against his mouth, the blend of echoing climax between her legs and the little tugs of his lips and tongue on her breast only pleasurable.

Once the breast was drained, still issuing a stream of semen into his Omega, he lifted his head and found her eyes hooded. Growling in the way he knew enticed her best, Bane demanded, "Kiss me, little one,"

Full lips came to hers. When Claire turned her head away automatically, he grabbed her jaw and brought her face back to his. "Look at me."

It was his voice that got through the haze of orgasm, unfiltered and almost human. She glanced at the source, confused. Everything was on display, the ruin of his face, the story of some long ago maiming. A scar ran diagonal across what was still a beautiful full mouth surrounded by skin chapped raw from the mask. There were other marks as well, damage at his left jaw deeply pitted and slashed, a starburst of stitch marks as if it had once been ripped open by teeth. Even in her haze and his disfigurement she could see the man, the one who had taken her, who had drugged her to force a child into her womb, the one whose purrs almost brought her as much peace as the sky.

"Look at the man you call a monster," he snarled the words passed gnashing teeth, "then kiss me, little one."

Green rimed black eyes did continue to look as fingertips came up to touch, to trace the lines of her mate's face, the angle of his mutilated jaw, a fine nose, and the soft pillows of lips with their arresting scar as she whispered to him. The great beast began to tremble oddly, eyes clouding with what almost looked like physical pain. She did not offer her lips; Claire pulled his head back to her breast instead, and offered the other dripping nipple. He sucked it greedily.

* * *

Tucked against him, his omega was sleeping far more deeply that she had after he broke her previous heat cycle. Carefully running his fingers through the dark mass of her hair, Bane growled, just as possessive as he had been at the end of the last estrous. Every thought in his head circled on ownership. She was his; he was never going to share her. She'd stay in that room and he would pet and purr as much as was needed while the child he had planted grew. What was a sky compared to that? Nothing. The sky was nothing.

The little one stirred and dark thick lashes fluttered open. Seeing his face, smelling the familiarity of his breath through the mask, Claire, hummed almost sadly and put a hand to her belly. "I am pregnant."

"You are, little one. Your scent is already altering." He disregarded the look in her eye when it was not exactly one of joy and stroked her jaw. "You will provide me with a fine child."

Something about the way he spoke made her incredibly uneasy. The haze of lust was gone, the moments of tender words and untrustworthy proclamations passed. Automatically the purr began, and the tugs on her hair resumed. Watching him with distrust, Claire filtered through the memory of her heat, recognizing that he had been very patient with her initial refusal and outright drug induced aggression. He could have debased her, but for hours he simply watched until she began to drip and the rut was unavoidable. Not that it absolved him of what he'd done, but it had seemed that he'd at least tried to be tender... the manipulative bastard. She almost wished he would have just outright raped her.

He'd got what he wanted without her consent or approval, and was rewarded with a very willing bedmate in estrous.

"Are you going to keep our child locked in this room too?" Claire asked, nervous that no matter his answer, it would not be good enough.

"No." The purr was going full force.

Claire reached for his hand, holding his eyes as she pulled the large thing down her sticky body until it rested over where he had created life with her. It was almost impossible to bring herself to whisper, "Will you separate me from..."

The hand on her abdomen tightened possessively over where cells containing their combined DNA were rapidly dividing in her womb. "You do not need to worry over such things."

"That is not an answer." She sat up more, eyes flashing and growing indignant. "I was not ready for a child, certainly not with a man I hardly know, but you have done this and I would like to know what you are going to do to us."

"Already the protective Omega mother; I find that pleases me." There was a strange glow in his eyes, as if the bastard was grinning evilly and biting his scarred lip. Pressing her back down into their nest he purred, "I will not part you from our child."

But would somebody else? The man had ways of saying half-truths that she could not tolerate in this situation. "Bane," the name was spoken like a promising threat.

There was a smile in his voice, a hint of something almost dark as well. "What, little one?"

"Do not give me cause to hate you more."

The way the light was in his eyes, he seemed almost charmed by the threat, and began to twist his fingers in a long strand of midnight hair. "No more talk of hatred. You are my mate, bound, and you will devote yourself to me."

Dark arched brows shot up and her jaw dropped. "You cannot force that."

The pad of his thumb traced her lips. "I can."

As if an agreement with the man, the thread began to bang loudly in her chest. There was to be no more talk, she was too tired to argue. The familiar weight of his hand moved from her belly to between her legs. Ignoring how Claire turned her head away he began to stroke the little bundle of nerves, flicking it to entice it to swell.

Grey eyes were possessive and commanding above her. Bane growled and purred, as he played with her pussy. "Submit. I will be gentle and you will enjoy it. Once you are calm you will sleep more."

* * *

The room was colder than the cell she had been locked in for the past six days. A guard, a brutish man four times her size, gestured at the empty chair across from a Beta she had seen on the premises before when Lilian and her friends were dragged away days ago.

"My name is Barsad. Take the seat, Nona French."

He had an unplaceable accent and the starling blue eyes of a bully. She knew his type and pulled out the chair to sit with dignity.

"Your driver's license states you are a Beta and, according to your clearly fraudulent record, you have never been pair-bonded or conceived children." The man began, looking up from the file before him to meet the older woman's eyes. "Are you the one who taught Miss O'Donnell to live as a Beta?"

The woman asked her own demanding question in a confident voice, "Where is Claire?"

The smallest of smirks came to the scruffy Beta's face. Placing his hands on the table, he took his time organizing his body into one of subtle intimidation. "She is where she belongs; with her mate."

"The Alpha, Bane?" It was asked like a question, but they both knew it was a statement of disgust. She'd seen him carry her off, sprained her wrist trying to fight her way to Claire. Nona's wrinkled lips turned down at the corner, and her hands mirrored his; a strangely antagonistic stance for an Omega. "He locked her in a room for five weeks. That is no proper mate."

Hard unblinking eyes held hers as Barsad clarified, "It is a customary behavior when adjusting one's Omega into their new life."

She laughed at him in a rich voice. "Maybe in the third world. I should not be surprised at your lack of civility given what you are. No wonder she was too ashamed to admit who had claimed her. Does he beat her too?"

"When you saw her for yourself did she look beaten?" The man leered, leaning forward.

Nona answered calmly, "She looked terrified and unwell."

"How long have you known Miss O'Donnell?"

The severe faced woman said nothing.

"It is in both of your best interests to answer my question, Ms. French." Barsad was through playing games.

"Or what? You'll lock me in jail so that I can be given away at my next estrous?"

"At your age an estrous would be unlikely. I would simply have you killed."

Tapping her fingers on the table, the woman smiled just a little. "I'm old. And I lived on my terms. Your threat of death does not overly concern me."

"What about torture?"

"Only one way to find out."

Barsad smiled and leaned back in his chair. "I didn't say your torture. There are two Omegas in our custody too young to serve a purpose. It is them I will torture if you do not behave and tell me what I want to know."

The anxiety on her face was instant. Lips pressed in a line she nodded.

Looking back at the file, Barsad began again. "How long have you known Miss O'Donnell?"

Answering vaguely, the woman said, "We were introduced two years before her mother died."

"And you have been a surrogate parent?"

"I have been a friend," Nona grunted. "Claire is independent and did not need to be coddled."

His eyes, surrounded with bags that spoke of his own exhaustion, looked to her again. "So she is not aware that you funded the scholarship that paid for her education after her father died?"

"She is not," Nona said, her tight bun bobbing. "As far as I knew, only the university had access to that information."

Suddenly the tenor of the conversation seemed far weightier. The air grew thick and Barsad spoke with no smile or intonation. "It seems you have a strong personal attachment to the girl, which makes me wonder why you allowed her to enter the courts."

A deep furrow grew between Nona's brows as she cocked her head. "We both volunteered but I was supposed to be the one to go to the courts."

"Explain."

"She stole the prepared clothing while I was bathing. She left a note explaining that she was faster, stronger, and that it had to be her. By the time I was aware of what happened she was long gone. Claire is very protective of the ones she loves."

"Did no one try to stop her?"

"The group agreed with her assessment." The woman looked away, her disappointment obvious. "And many simply thought she would be more appealing as our representative. It was a very close vote."

"Is that not ironic?" Bored, the man looked her dead in the eye. "Who was her contact to Commissioner Gordon?"

"Since you have already questioned the women who met with her that evening, I am certain you are aware that it was never mentioned in the brief contact we had." Leaning forward on her elbows, the older woman demanded. "I want to see Claire."

"No," the Beta answered flatly.

The interrogation continued, a list of assorted questions about Claire's history, her quirks, some so precise, such as her favorite fruit, that even Nona did not know the answer. The exchange was strange and she wondered why Bane simply did not ask Claire these questions himself... or was this all for another purpose.

* * *

There had been only exhaustion in Claire's short lived freedom and Bane had allowed her no rest upon return. Between the eight days of sleeplessness and the chemical alertness of estrous, Claire was drained in a way she had never known. There was never enough sleep, and her former restlessness was replaced with almost haunting lethargy and an unwillingness to move from the bed. When she woke, she would be burrowed, completely covered, and once or twice snarled at the male reaching in to pluck her out from under all her covers to eat or dress her wound.

All she wanted was the dark and to be left alone in her temper. But Bane would appear and no matter how much she hated the sight of him, the man pulled her to stiffly lie atop him. Too tired to talk, or complain, all she wanted was for him to be still so she could cover them both to reproduce her burrow, and pretend the bastard was not there. He would only let her rest a little and eventually seeking hands were more than petting the lingering soreness from her body, they were fondling increasingly tender breasts and playing between her legs.

Claire did not want the attention, hated that his smell did things to her, that she craved it so badly she had a need to burrow into his side of the bed where his scent was much stronger. As if he knew what kept her constantly sniffing him, yesterday's shirts began to appear in their bed when she woke and he was gone. Finding them pressed to her nose, Claire would toss them away and curses him to hell... Bane would put them back when he returned.

It was almost a game. Claire would throw one out and wake up to find two in its place. The first time it happened, Claire began to giggle, a sound that made the masked observer in the corner perk his ears, never having heard it. Unaware she had an audience, she threw his things on the floor and burrowed deeper, still laughing.

There was a swat on her rump and she shrieked in surprise, twisting and shoving the blankets off of her head. Sitting up, her hair a mess, she found him standing over the bed and dropping the clothing in her lap. At the blush on her cheek, Bane was the one laughing darkly, prowling over her to sniff at the bedraggled woman.

"You think your rejection of your mate's scent in this nest is funny?"

She had not spoken to him, even to ask the hour, in days. Too tired, too confused, still angry she frowned, unsure of his tone.

"Is your protest a silent way to communicate that you prefer the real thing?"

He seemed almost like he was flirting and Claire cocked a brow, croaking, "No."

Bane fisted the blankets and drew them over their heads, pulling her against him as he rebuilt her burrow. Settling back, hating that he was not taking the proper position and instead looming over her, Claire felt his hand move between them, followed by the grate of his zipper. His hand was pumping and it took her a minute to realize that he was stroking his cock. A few small grunts, a warning growl when she tried to move away, and his hand moved faster until he groaned low and long. Splashes of pooling come bathed her naked belly and breasts with so much fluid it dripped into the nest and scented the confined space far more strongly than any used shirt.

As if she was in estrous, he rubbed it into her skin, pressed it between her resistant lips, and made sure his seed got everywhere. Something about the act, that he'd done it for his own pleasure and none of hers, left her feeling almost neglected and very displeased. He left her as soon as his scenting was done, Claire frowning at his back. Peeking out from her burrow, from the rich smell that saturated in every way, it only took about twenty minutes before Claire was finally tempted to leave the darkness of her blankets for the subterranean dimness of her cage.

Her bare feet padded silently to the dresser, green eyes sneaking a glance at the Alpha working at his laptop. Dressing, oblivious that she did not have an urge to wash his semen away, Claire began to do what she usually did in her waking hours in prison before he'd dragged her back; she paced. Her joints were stiff from so much sleeping and the walking did little to amuse her or ease her black mood. Bane seemed to be ignoring her, she was trying to ignore him, but as the hour progressed she began unconsciously edging a little bit nearer.

Staring, Claire found his computer screen was still just bizarre and unreadable. Sighing, bored, she popped her lips and yipped when a great arm swooped out and snatched her out of the blue. Bane had seemed so focused and she had been so quiet, that when he pounced she startled, even as she was quickly tucked to sit across his lap. Bane just went right back to whatever he had been doing, trapping her in a cage of overly muscled arms.

It had not been her intention to invite interaction and she squirmed uncomfortably against his armor. "I'm hungry."

An answer hissed passed the mask. "No you're not; you're restless and want attention."

What she was was irritated. "Why aren't you purring?" The jerk could at least do that. For fuck sake, it was the only thing he was good for.

Claire could not prove it but she was fairly certain he was smirking under the mask. Grey eyes left the screen and his face turned to look down at her. "If I purred you would not have been coaxed nearer."

Rubbing at the soreness in her shoulder she narrowed her eyes and glared.

Grey eyes glittering, he drolled, "Your mood swings are mildly amusing, little one."

"What is this?" she gestured toward the screen, unwilling to be baited and far more willing to be aggravating.

His attention went back to his work. "If you were meant to read it, it would be in your English."

Claire simply rolled her eyes and groaned. Lesson learned. She would pointedly keep her distance to avoid this situation in the future.

"No you won't."

"Stop doing that!" she snapped when he responded to a thought he could not possibly read.

Ignoring her, Bane's finger went to the touchpad and clicked until something new flashed before the screen. Sitting up eagerly, leaning forward, Claire reached out to take a hold without thinking. Bane gently uncurled her fingers from the monitor and pulled her back, even as she stared. He began to purr and she to smile as she looked at a scanned photograph of her family, one that had been uploaded on her Facebook page.

"Your father was an Alpha." It was clear that was who had all her attention in the picture, that it was his face her finger wanted to ghost over. "Your mother was an Omega."

_Obviously._.. Claire was trying to ignore the distracting man to focus on something worthy, seeing the patch of blue sky in the background, as they all stood together outside Disney World.

"My mother did not like my father." Her tone was almost taunting, pointing out the parallel to their situation.

Bane mocked her right back, "And to avoid her fate you sequestered yourself away; became something unnatural."

Her dark head swung around to face the man who could not possibly understand. "There is nothing wrong with celibacy and self-control! You might think I am beneath you, but your short sighted view of Omegas is pathetic and limiting. It shows very much what kind of mind you have behind the well-spoken words and insane agenda. I made it years! Years, Bane, and you ruined everything."

The fire in his eyes made Claire realize what she'd done. Her face grew instantly nervous he would react to her outburst and instinctively she covered her belly to protect what was hidden inside.

His tone seemed a forced sort of neutral as he demanded, "And what was this great plan you saw for yourself? How were you to find a mate when you lived in seclusion and behaved like a beta to carve out a place in society?"

"I dated... sometimes," she grumbled defensively.

Her words were clearly not pleasing and she felt his muscles flex all around her. "Betas?"

"Betas are more willing to respect my boundaries. Alphas are dangerous and take without asking."

"And you lied to them about your dynamic..."

Scowling, Claire clarified, "I simply did not say anything about it. Being an Omega should not be what defines me any more than the color of my skin."

As if analyzing, Bane stated, "Your mother's suicide had a very strong impact on your thinking."

Claire shook her head and gave a cynical disbelieving frown, but was not at all surprised he had found out some of her history. "I find it funny how often in my life Alphas have tried to equate my subversive behavior to my mother's death. I am not the only Omega to feel this way; many of us do. And if you Alphas had a lick of sense you would take time to talk to us instead of just spreading our legs for your own amusement."

"Was your father unkind to your mother?"

Dismissively, Claire looked back to the screen and muttered, "He doted on her, but it didn't matter. She was in love with someone else."

That stopped him at once. He began to gather her hair in his fist and pulled her head back to force her attention. "You will love no one but me."

Every feeling inside made her want to spit out the truth that she did not love him at all, but she could smell the aggression, the dominance and anger, and knew speaking was dangerous. Their conversation was at an end; the point was driven home a second later when his hand slipped under her skirt and the growl was made.

* * *

**I must say that my mind was blow by all the feedback on the last chapter. I love you all for putting in the effort for me. Thank you. Of course you know I can't wait to hear your thoughts on how the story has progressed. Please review.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Blake found his assumption correct when he stood with the masses and watched three emaciated women paraded out to stand in the square before the courthouse. They had been charged with theft and battery, Crane himself shouting out their sentence as the terrified women were forced toward the nooses dangling from a Gotham landmark, a massive oak almost as old as the city itself... a tree that had been used for hangings in a less civilized era.

It was one of those random city facts that all Gothamites learned in seventh grade history, and a thing Blake never imagined he would see in person. Thousands had come to watch the sentences be carried out as it had been broadcasted at the food trucks, the city intrigued that the women had not just been thrown out on the ice.

It was a show, a visual warning to remind the population who was in charge, and a sham.

Crane, in his frayed suit, postulated with an angry smirk, listing the Omega's sins; claimed that they dared to oppose the city's benevolent ruler, called them cowards and aggressors, rattled off a record of crimes so ridiculous that Blake found the crowds' gasps preposterous. Didn't they see what this was? Could they not grasp that those skeletal women were terrified and weak... that they had been gagged so they might not speak out?

Bane himself stood by the makeshift scaffold, large and terrible, his fists gripping the collar of his armor as his huge coat flapped lightly in the wind. The Omegas had to be forced the final distance by soldiers, propped up on the chairs provided as they trembled, and sobbed loudly behind their gags. Many in the crowd were actually cheering, catcalling at the women, immersed in the show.

"_Our liberator has given you freedom from oppression. These convicts seek to take that away by stealing from the very hero who has set you free, by attacking those who seek to protect you! And for that reason Lilian Hale, Xochitl Ramos, and Barb Guppy, you have been found guilty and are sentenced to death by hanging."_

Scarecrow's clever hint at the truth had Blake frowning, which deepened when the nooses were fixed around the women's necks and pulled taut in preparation. Bane himself, the monster who had Claire in his possession, kicked each chair from under the terrified women's feet and watched them jerk and thrash, almost fixated. It was a short drop; their feet only a few inches from the ground, and it took almost fifteen minutes for the last of the women to stop twitching. All three suffered a horrifying death that made drowning in the icy Gotham River seem merciful by comparison.

The rabid crowd lost its edge as the women's uncovered faces turned grotesque shades of purple and their eyes bulged unnaturally. Two of them wet themselves, and in the end it appeared as if Gotham recognized and began to feel the fear Bane had intended to inspire. The three bodies were left there to swing in the breeze, exposed to the elements and birds when Bane simply walked away and the mob began to disperse.

With his hands deep in his pockets, Blake moved on. Some part of him had hoped that Bane would have Claire at his side, though he knew such an idea was ridiculous. He just needed to see her, to know she was okay. There were so many unanswered questions, so much that weighed on his shoulders, and when he closed his eyes at night it was her in that grave he saw being covered in dirt. Claire's green eyes, staring dead and unblinking at the sky, that haunted him.

The syringe had been inspected by his fellow cops. It did not smell like any known street drugs or opiates, and without a lab it was just a weird anomaly. The thought that Bane had brutally punished her deepened the furrow between Blake's brows until the scowl never left his face. Why did he fuck her right away? What were the drugs for?

It had been two weeks and he was not sure if Claire was even still alive. The temptation to approach, to ease just close enough to see if he carried her scent, took Blake's feet up the steps into the courtroom.

It was madness; he knew that. He had totally lost his mind. But with the crush, with the fanfare and the rowdy froth of the crowd, he was unseen and unnoticed. The stink of the room was intrinsically gross. With unwashed males and a few of the more nasty Alpha females, the air was laced with an aggressive musk that mingled into a pungent stench that would warn off anyone weaker. Blake could imagine Claire walking into such a place and being swallowed up. She had claimed a riot broke out at the start of her heat, that Bane had killed a lot of people to claim her. If it was in the midst of this group she was lucky they had not started ripping off her limbs.

But Bane had fought the mob for her. That was the one part Blake still could not wrap his mind around. Bane was a killer, the type to stand back and watch.

Edging through the crowd, mimicking the savage behavior of those around him when a new prisoner was dragged in to be judged, Blake went unnoticed. He only needed to get within fifteen feet before he smelled the scent Bane wore with pride. Claire's slick, Bane's trophy, was fresh as if he'd only just had her before executing the women Blake's gut told him were responsible for turning her in.

_These convicts seek to take that away by stealing from the very hero who has set you free, by attacking those who seek to protect you!_

It was all just too surreal, too double edged, but Blake found a small ray of reassurance that Claire was alive. Blake would remain strong for her, for all the oppressed, and he, like the other cops, would find a way to end this madness. Gritting his teeth and scowling deeply he left the courts to walk toward Madison and 8th. The bomb trucks had changed pattern again and a new vantage needed to be found.

* * *

Bane found her under her burrow again, fast asleep in a circle of his scented garments when he slid in beside her. The Omega was almost always sleeping, a side effect of the early stages of pregnancy his personal physician had assured. Turning her to where she was against the curve of his body, he saw her grimace, sniff at him in sleep then come awake at once.

With a pensive expression she began to boldly draw in his scent, scowling deeper each time she did, and it was impossible to miss her displeasure at what she found. Stranger still, she made no secret of her appraisal, climbing over him until her nose was breathing in the air he exhaled from the mask. There was revulsion in her eyes.

Bane watched her climb out of bed and walk naked through the room toward the bathroom where she turned on the shower. Claire was not going to speak to him; she simply marched back in the room with her hand over her nose and mouth, her silent way of telling the Alpha to wash off the smell.

"Explain your issue," Bane grunted, leaning on up on his elbows to see her more clearly in the dark.

Her tongue was sharp when she lowered her hand and explained, "You stink of many hostile Alphas... and you contaminated my nest."

Bane rose from the bed, narrowing his eyes at the discomfort on her face as he walked closer. "Your tone is undesirable."

Claire wiped her face clean of her unfriendly expression, still needing him to wash, and not wanting to give him a reason to fuck her when he smelled of the very squalid men who almost raped her in the courts. Her heart picked up pace as an off note vibrated out of tune from her end of the thread. "Please don't touch me smelling like other men."

The way she whispered the entreaty and the odd fear in her eyes made him growl in displeasure as he skirted her form and moved into the bathroom. Claire stripped the bed in a flurry, bunching up all the offensive cloth, and dumped it by the door. New unsatisfactorily scentless bedding was put on at once and she was already burrowed again when he came back smelling only of soap and Bane.

"Come out of there."

She twisted and sat up to find him standing naked at the side of the bed like a monolith. Piercing grey eyes dissected her trepiditious expression. "Do you still find me offensive?" It was worded as a question and a lure.

In many ways, yes. "No."

He cocked a brow, challenging, "Are you certain? I do not wish to contaminate _our_ nest."

Unwilling to glare or hiss in response, she moved to her knees to nose his stomach so he might leave her in peace. "You smell as you should."

It was another one of those new games of his, the crafty ways of drawing her out, the manipulation to earn her attention outside of her persistent anger. Climbing over her, arranging her body so their skins were flush, Bane rolled and made her rest above him in the very position she'd claimed in estrous. His large hand reached for the covers and pulled them over their heads as he knew she needed at the moment.

Feeling her nose at his neck as she absently sniffed, it was clear the Omega was appeased, even humming her strange music, contented when his fingers started to manipulate the muscles along her spine. Soon enough, Claire was utterly tranquil, her soft breaths clear that slumber was a heartbeat away.

A mechanical breath preceded, "What have you done in my absence?"

Half asleep, she grumbled, "The same thing I am trying to do right now."

"I have other plans for you."

He felt her body tense, the Omega preparing to be manhandled. The catch of breath that came in a tone devoid of emotion almost strangled her words, "I'm tired."

Correcting her tone he flexed the arm strewn across her lower back and answered with his own low growl, "It is natural at this stage that your body feels lethargic as it adapts to its new task. This malaise will pass."

It seemed like such a strange explanation for her reluctance that Claire put her chin to his chest and glanced toward the man burrowed in her nest with her. It was too dark for her to see him and she did not know that Bane's ocular skills were sharpened to the point that her curious expression was clear to him. He ran his palm up her body until flush against her cheek, watching her reaction, knowing she thought darkness concealed her. Her expression was not grimaced in the miserable distrust he'd stomached since her return. Instead it was softly rendered in a state of the resigned acquiescence she refused to show where he could see.

Taking time to trace her face, to watch her close her eyes and find a moments peace even under his touch, Bane observed then wondered aloud, "You are still angry with me for inducing estrous... though you were well-cared for during and since?"

Claire stiffened, her face forming back into a slight scowl. "I suspect you desire a specific answer and I am too drained to figure out what it is."

There had been little conversation between them in their short acquaintance and it usually ended the instant Bane no longer found her replies acceptable. The frustration of fighting to be heard had passed into disillusioning acceptance that left her with little interest in anything but sleep. In that dark little tent of blankets she looked toward the sound of his breath, chewing her lower lip, and wishing that moments like those, the times he would seem passively gentle, were her reality; that the dark nameless warmth and male body was someone else's.

Speaking through the purr that Bane projected gently from his barrel chest into her smaller body, he asked, "Beyond leaving the safety of this space, what would lessen this _discontent_?"

"A window."

Burrowing the pads of his fingers against her scalp and rubbing enough that she closed her eyes and almost leaned into his hand, Bane countered, "There are several shelves of _windows _waiting across the room which you have pointedly ignored."

"I don't need to learn how to be a dictator. I don't want to be anything like you."

Bane concurred, his voice unconcerned at her lip as it distorted through the mask, "I agree, you would make a terrible soldier and would require almost constant punishment for insubordination."

Suddenly the purr completely stopped. There was an awkward moment as his palm cupped her face and brought it fractionally higher. A voice in the dark said almost surprised, "You are smiling."

Was she? No, she could not have been. Looking rigidly toward the direction she assumed his eyes must be, hardening her expression she mocked, "And how do you punish your soldiers?"

The pad of his thumb traced over her neutral lips as he teased her back, "Would you prefer corporal punishment over being physically attuned to your proper course?"

There was a stifled coughing noise, and she moved out of his palm and pressed her face to his chest. A strange shudder wracked her body under his embracing arm and Bane felt her lips curve against his skin before she let escape a second of strangled laughter.

The purr returned in full force. "And now you are laughing..."

"Of course not," she grumbled against his chest, trying her damndest to keep her lips from twitching.

The pads of his fingers skimmed her ribs and she flinched, stiffened, and then bit her lip to stop her angry giggles even as she inadvertently clawed him, "Bane!"

"Yes?" he trilled his fingers on her ribs and she shied at once, about to slip away, but her speed was nowhere near his and she was trapped in her piles of blankets.

Claire was suddenly awake, very awake and trying not to shriek in laughter as he twisted their bodies and caught her under his weight. All the breath was forced from her lungs and she could taste a drop her blood in her mouth where she'd bit her lip to stifle her laughter at the tickling. The covers had slipped and his mask was only a hairs-breadth from her mouth.

Bane seemed alive, full of a new unusual energy, as his ribs expanded and contracted over her in rapid excited breaths. "You are alight again."

Automatically sucking her lower lip in her mouth she licked off the blood and grunted, "You are smashing your baby."

Weight minorly shifted and thin branching crow's feet developed outside of the grey eyes watching what was trapped beneath him.

The mask pressed to the familiar spot at her neck as the behemoth sucked in a deep rasping breath through the metal mesh between them. "I favor you this way, little one."

His body flexed against her and suddenly the massive killer was playful, setting his hip between hers. Immediately unsettled, Claire realized she had behaved badly in her fatigue. She had invited attention, she had engaged... and he seemed very happy about it. Taking her hand he put her palm on his chest and drew it down the length of his torso as he arched into the compelled touch like a spoiled cat.

Claire watched her hand on its course, wondering idly if he even registered or cared this it was only his force on her hand that continued the caress. Looking almost objectively at the male balanced above her, she wondered if the thread spoke to him as it did her. What manipulations was it working in his mind?

The ripple of knotted muscles at Bane's ribs, the hard line of his belly, so much mass and heat. Her eyes traveled up to find him watching her almost clinically, gauging her expression. The moment became far more confusing, as did the light furrow of his brow and the almost intrigued expression in the grey.

His body shifted, the hand drawn up until Claire's palm was against the wreckage of scars on the back of his thick neck. The forefront of his mask was forcing her jaw upward as he sniffed and growled lowly as he released the pressure of his hand on hers, "I am sore here."

The mask settled back against her neck, the beast stilled and waited, covering but not crushing her, and he wanted her to only rub. It seemed a reasonable thing but she hesitated. Touching him in coitus when her mind was on another plane was one thing; giving him relief simply because he wanted her to... she was resistant to offer it.

When his hand moved to her breast and began to knead the mound of flesh, Claire stiffened, bracing as she understood his point. His erection had been growing between their bodies and was already pulsing and ready, and he simply left its weight against her thigh. She could rub him or he could fuck her. He was giving her a choice. Her small hand reached for the covers, to pull over her to recreate the burrow, then her hand went back to the thickly muscled and scarred nape of his neck.

His fingers trailed lightly off the nipple he'd been toying with, and the beast growled low and long at the feel of her hand kneading his spine.

The sensation of touching him seemed so very different. Thinking of it clinically, Claire let her hand actually recognize where there was tension in the musculature. Objectively she wondered if it hurt, but the more she dug in the deeper his purr became. It seemed as if the behemoth was nearing sleep, his weight settling a bit more atop her, but that is not what continuously distracted Claire's attention. It was the still hard heat of his cock and how it would jerk, as if Bane were flexing a muscle, every so often, the head flush with her own sex. Secondly, her breast, the one he'd caressed in the unspoken offer, was sensitive and the nipple still distended. Claire had to take great care as she rubbed Bane's neck to assure the mound of flesh did not come into contact with him when she reached, that the inappropriate thrill when the peak of flesh hit the heat of his skin could not continue.

It was almost maddening.

Even in the early stages of pregnancy her body reacted to his nearness far more strongly than it had before. Where there had been disgust, Claire began to feel stirrings. It was only a physical reaction, but it felt like a betrayal of her very self when revulsion disappeared and her mind tried to shut off her torrent of internal reproofs.

That was why he had done it, she was certain: Pregnancy made her crave the nearness of him... almost inspired the interest he seemed to demand. A long sigh passed her lips and the giant shifted just a little. As if some threshold had been crossed, some test finished, Bane seamlessly began to ease in the head of his cock into the tight slick passage. Pretending it was unwelcome even as she continued to stroke his neck, her body needing to touch the purring Alpha, the male whose scent was causing her eyes to slightly dilate.

Her expression might hint that she found his callused fingers distasteful, but the flush on her cheeks gave her away when slowly he returned his large hand to her swollen breast. There was something under the surface of the act she could not put her finger on, something in the way the pad of his thumb circled flesh, his cock still easing slowly inside her, as if testing the waters. Claire suspected he was waiting for some revelation, some great moment, and like a bucket of cold water realized what had happened.

Bane had never made the growl.

There was no derision, no mocking of her confusion and instant panic, only the satin movement of his hips until her slick passage was filled to the brim, just wet enough to accept him. Above her in the burrow, his mask so close to her mouth that they shared breath, Bane rolled his hips, watching her eyes in the dark as Claire's breath hitched at the stretch and the Omega came to terms with what had led her to tremble. Her body had broadcast the scent of slick, and Bane had acted instantly to fulfill something her mind would have never allowed.

Warm fingertips left her breast to trace her lips, the line of her jaw, Bane watching as hooded green eyes closed completely.

The seduction seemed organic, none of the measured calculation he usually employed, but Claire's mind was in turmoil and she had to do something. It was like a flash of inspiration, the only way she could fight back, because his new dominance over her body had to stop somewhere. He might be drawing soft gasps and murmurs from her lips, but Claire had the power to think of another. At first it was almost easy, her little mental defiance. She thought of the one person she knew Bane hated, his nemesis and vanquished foe, Claire pictured Batman.

With movement like the flow of a river, Bane turned them both until her burrow fell away and he held her above him. There was no dark shelter where her face and feelings could hide, he had exposed her, but so long as her eyes remained closed she could maintain the defiance.

He rolled his hips even as he commanded her, "Little one, you will look at me when I fuck you."

The weight of his gaze drew her attention, and, automatically, the fan of her lashes lifted as Claire looked through passion drugged eyes and green found shining grey. All thought disappeared in the haze, the image she had tried to maintained gone, as if it never existed. There was only Bane.

"Good girl."

Large hands took her hips to lift and lower her frame, the pace still slow, as Claire braced on his massive chest she did as she was compelled, whimpering when his grip left her hips to caress her breasts. Leaning into his touch, caught up, Claire altered the angle, to feel his cock press against that mass of internal spongy flesh that made her curl her toes.

Bane angled to hit the place she presented, drawing out her gasps until she began to keen softly. Being pleasured by the Alpha had always been a sensation of mind-bending carnality, but at that moment all she could register was shining grey, and soft touches. In combination with a long hum, her pussy twitched and gripped, drawing the Alpha in, enticing him to spill. Bane did, groaning as he gripped and yanked her writhing hips flush against his so he could knot deep in her core.

The splash of heat in her belly as he gushed soothed, and she was humming content, even as Bane pulled her closer, chest to chest, groaning long and loudly as another wave of come shot from his cock.

They were locked together by the knot, and would be so for some time by the feel of it. With her cheek to the damp skin of his chest, Claire listened to his heart. At moments like that the thread no longer seemed greasy, its seemed clean, and even when she pretended it was not there it hummed, singing to her. It was her job to remember that it was not as it seemed, and like a crashing wave the necessary and painful self-loathing returned.

There was no comforting purr when her mind grew anxious, no pets to sooth her tension. Bane wanted her to recognize the quality of their exchange. Shifting as if to put distance between them, Claire only felt the huge bulbous anchor hooked behind her pelvic bone remind her resistance was pointless. Trapped, she tried to be still, to allow the waves of castigation to ruin her peace.

The male offered in a voice almost laced with compassion, "Your reaction was not unnatural."

It began to feel as if the whole thing had been planned down to the very breath she drew at his words; that he had brought forth this moment and she had been an unknowing player in his drama. "And your neck," she began in a voice full of spite, "does it still hurt?"

"Your touch eased the pain." Feeling Claire bury her face against him as if shamed, Bane ceased the lesson and offered a purr, allowing his arms to come around her to cradle as she wanted but would not ask for.

It was not much longer, perhaps only a handful of days, before she slept less and began to grow anxious when left alone. Claire no longer found joy in her hours of seclusion as she had before he infected her with poison. Instead isolation left her edgy. When Bane was not present time dragged by, and she found herself longing for his return no matter how much she denied it and hid in her burrow, praying for sleep to eat up the hours as it had before.

Ashamed of herself, she tried to hide her relief when he came through the door, did her best not to look at him too long. It didn't make any difference. Bane knew that very first time, and it showed in the intensity of his curious expression when he smelled the air in her direction. He responded to it with a smile that crinkled the skin at the corner of his eyes and by immediately taking her body with a practiced calculating sensuality, watching her obsessively with those all-seeing eyes. It was as if he knew what warred inside her, knew that she was losing... grasped that Claire found it harder to hate him, and struggled even to hate herself. When she fell to pieces and the shame bore into her, she began to cry as if lost. Bane played his hand, behaving seemingly patient and continued the manipulative assault on her convictions by comforting her with deep purrs even as he mounted her, fucking the Omega until she forgot she had been upset in the first place.

The culmination of her ruin was the perpetual attack even in sleep. Claire's dreams were filled with soft things, warmth, and the scent of her mate... his voice, the feel of his roughened hands slipping over her skin. The dream grew stronger nightly, and to her horror, she awoke half aware and throbbing for him to fill her. Claire instinctively reached for him the third or fourth time she'd awoken in that state, trailing her hand down his muscular body, pressing closer in her dazed need as she hummed in the dark. Bane responded with absolute enthusiasm, rolling his silken weight on top of her, and groaning long and deep to find her already dripping wet. In that dreamlike mating, Claire could not get enough of his skin, cried out for him when his cock replaced where his fingers had been exploring, and held him as if he were hers, as if he were precious. When a corner of her mind rebelled, she shut it off, unwilling in that moment to recognize her failing, needing the fantasy just once that she was happy, and just like that she lost another part of herself to a monster.

As he moved inside her, the thread resonating in joy, she realized how easy it could be, how dreamlike, how intoxicating, if she would only forget and submit. When she urged him to go faster, to give her more than slow soothing thrusts, she came apart underneath him as he pounded away, the bond throbbing as powerfully as her pussy when she burst apart. Bane knotted deep at once, the sounds he created made and the hazy quality of his iron eyes made it clear it was one of the most fulfilling releases he'd known.

He praised her for hours afterward, stroking and purring, and she wished he would not speak. She did not want to hear how well she had pleased him or how beautiful he found her. It was making her remember that she was Claire and he was Bane, and all the things he had done and all the ways she had failed in so short a time.

When she woke again he was working at his desk, breathing in and out in a rhythmic hiss of breath that seemed so common place she hardly noticed it anymore. With him shirtless, Claire could see every line of his muscles, the dips and curves of a man built to break things. Pulling a dress over her head, she sat at the edge of the bed and watched him unconsciously; her mind absently working out the best place to sink in her teeth, already imaging the feel of puncturing skin should she mark him as she had been so tempted to do.

Knocked out of her daydream, she found Bane had turned and was looking at her, approval obvious between his lashes. It was the mortification of just how far she had let her mind wander that made Claire draw in a breath and need to be difficult. "How are the Omegas?"

The change in him was immediate. All trace of amusement was gone and in its place was the hardness and dominance he exercised expertly. "They are exactly as they should be."

"Subjugated and imprisoned?" Claire challenged sarcastically, standing up to force herself to pace. She should have been pacing for days... why had she stopped pacing? Why had she not asked sooner? What the fuck was wrong with her?

"Come here."

Her barked answer was immediate, "No."

She needed to go back to the status quo, to remembering to hate the father of her child, not admire his body... never allow pleasant feelings for him. She should be wishing him dead, not caring for him. Wringing her hands, she marched, totally ignoring the giant rising from his chair to subdue her.

A meaty hand locked on her shoulder above the wound Bane had inflicted and tended each day. The discomfort of compressing the tender flesh made her wince and press her lips into a line. Heat rose from his body, seeped into hers, and the smell, the necessary scent, forced Claire to close her eyes and focus to maintain her defiance against a man that was her foe... not her lover.

"You will cease this at once." His voice was not hard.

"I will not."

His tone dropped considerably, "Little one."

Trying to shrug out of his grasp only brought Bane's anger. That was good, she thought. He had been too gentle, pretending he was not a beast who imprisoned and poisoned her. She wanted to see the dragon, hear the angry growls, to feel the thread buzz badly out of tune.

The fan of black lashes lifted, she looked him dead in the eye, and she sneered, "I will not."

"Your fear of change and this acting out is beneath you."

She growled in frustration and clenched her fists tightly. How dare he sound so calm!

A voice that was dripping with reason came from the mask. "If you wished to mate you do not need to pick a fight to justify your desire to yourself. That is what you are doing; expecting my reaction will be to respond by mounting you, because you do not want to acknowledge that you are already wet and ready."

That is not what she was doing! Was it? A look of horror came to her face when she realized that she did smell of slick, that she was incredibly turned on... but she was also angry. She put her head in her hands, to hide her face, wishing she could just explode. "You do not understand me at all!"

"Then tell me what the point of this tantrum is?" he challenged in a mellow voice, still refusing to show the anger she wanted so badly to foster. "There will be no change to the Omega situation. You know that. I know that. Conversation on the topic is pointless and only inflammatory... You desire my reaction, and we both know what you want me to do."

Claire started yanking on her hair.

Bane spoke again, "If you do not ask in this instance, then I will not give you what you want."

A sly smile, a nasty hateful grin, came to Claire's lips as she lowered her hands and looked into the unaffected grey. "I can tell you what I want! I want the Omegas not to be treated like livestock. To have the choice in whom they mate; to be safe and fed and not treated like sex toys for your disgusting men!"

"I caution you to carefully consider your next words." He still sounded so calm, but the embers were igniting.

Her eyes fell to the expanse of his chest, staring hard at where the thread was attached. "I am starting to remember myself. I will find a way to be free."

He shook her roughly once. "**YOU WILL NEVER LEAVE THIS ROOM**!"

The customary discord was back, a shrill piercing pluck at the cord. Claire breathed as if in relief as Bane yanked her toward the bed. She was thrown down, the giant looming tall over her, but he did not touch her, only glared, his chest heaving, as if he wished to rip off her head. Then he turned and left, locking the door loudly to make his point.

Her victory was short lived when the uncomfortable loneliness set in hours later. He did not return to her. At length, the bearded beta brought her next meal and Claire understood that she had been upgraded to solitary confinement. She was pregnant, no longer smelled enticing to his men; Bane could avoid her as much as he wished and have his peons bring her food... and she would simply have to bare it.

As she ate a dinner of lamb and roasted baby potatoes she began to cry, missing Bane's presence and hating herself for it.

* * *

**I adore the questions and analysis in the reviews you so kindly leave me. So much is coming in this story and I have almost completely finished writing all the upcoming chapters. I can tell you there will be no clichés, you will be surprised, and you many love or hate me by what's coming.**

**I am eager to know your thoughts and would love if you could leave a short review.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

It took a bit of creative thinking to learn the location of Claire's home before the occupation. All internet connection on the island had been terminated, even cell towers were destroyed to assure the population had little means to communicate or muster outside of face to face contact. Bane's manipulation of the information and communication on and off the island was practically complete, but not total.

There were still databases, servers filled with the information of the residents of the city, and that's what Blake needed access to. Most of the police precincts were currently used by Bane's militia. Blake had scouted dozens, the few abandoned locations he'd found were in very hostile regions, and the precincts' inner workings picked clean or totally demolished. But after two weeks of dangerous reconnaissance, he got lucky.

In the burned out husk of a small High Town police station, Blake discovered one office that had been untouched by the fire. The computer seemed functional, and by some fucking miracle booted up when turned on. The fact it even had power or connectivity to the server had to be a sign from the gods.

Working quickly before anyone passing might notice the glow of the monitor, Blake accessed Gotham DMV records and collected the former address of Claire O'Donnell. Wasting no time, he shut off the valuable resource and went straight to the neighborhood he was marginally familiar with.

The Omega had lived only a block from a Low Town slum, in a region that had once been posh over a century before. Everything was old row houses, sandwiched tightly and painted in faded washes of pastel colors. Many of the buildings had been converted into apartments, expensive little subdivisions with minimal square footage but an old city charm he could see a woman like Claire appreciating.

Her apartment had been ransacked, of course, windows shattered, knickknacks destroyed and anything of value gone. What remained was shoddy furniture and walls of books full of genres from horror to romance. It was clear which novels she adored, as their spines had been distorted by frequent use. Smirking a little, Blake found her favorites almost cliché, his lip twitching when a dog eared copy of Nicolas Sparks, The Notebook, was in a position of prominence.

With careful fingers, he pulled it out and looked at the worn cover. The girl he'd been dating when that movie came out had dragged his ass to see it... it had not been two hours of his life he had enjoyed. Blake had found the plot almost laughable, a little disturbed that women thought men might actually be like that Noah guy. It was an eye rolling experience, but his girlfriend had thanked him for it afterward with one of the best blowjobs he'd ever received. The lesson was never forgotten and Blake had made sure he watched that movie with every girl he'd dated since.

Tossing the book on Claire's worn coffee table, Blake moved into the small space's only bedroom. Everything was in the shade of robin's egg blue, styled in the comfortable atmosphere that Omegas required. The bedding still smelled of her, even though it looked as if one of the rioters had rolled about in the scent. Taking a seat on the single bed, Blake picked up a family photograph that sat on her bedside table, looking at what must have been her parents and her when she was just a girl. The depiction captured what Claire had described to him once: A grinning Alpha father with his hands resting on his little daughter's shoulders. Beside them was a woman with a tight smile, a forced expression, and surrendered eyes.

Claire was the image of her father, the same Irish looks, the same black hair, but she had her mother's small frame and long limbs that gave her a swanlike quality even his borrowed clothes had not diminished. She looked fragile, but Blake knew she was a lot stronger than she seemed.

Setting the photograph back on the nightstand, Blake stood and began to poke through her small collection of worthless jewelry that even the looters had passed up. Under the lining of the small velvet box he felt the outline of a ring and pulled back the fabric to find a worn gold claddagh. He recognized it from the photograph and figured it must have been her mother's wedding band.

Blake took it to return it to her, because he was going to see her again. She was sneaky and smart, she would find her way. Claire would not end up like the Omegas the cops set free, the ones who could hardly function... No. She was different.

It cut Blake apart each time he went to the Omega's safe house to bring rations and serve his turn as guard. They were all afraid all the time; skittish and unbalanced. Two had asked to be paired to Alphas, any Alphas, weeping, begging for some male to claim them and give them a sense of purpose and relief. Blake tried to talk to them, to explain that purpose had to come from within. It was like talking to a wall.

He'd sat with determination, looking into the blue glassy eyes of a woman whose pair bond had been broken with the death of her mate. Whatever damage it had done to her was far beyond his skill to heal. She just stared right through him, as if he was not even there. The wreckage of her psyche was the reason that she ran. The female had found no comfort in the care of Betas, fled into a city of violence just so an Alpha, any Alpha, would bond to her and take her pain away.

It didn't work that way.

Even as a Beta, Blake could grasp that a pair-bond was not some bandage that would heal the kind of trauma that women had suffered. It would not bring instant peace or a sense of safety. Just look at Claire. Hers only gave her torment and fear. It was a chemical thing, a drug perhaps, but in the end it all depended on the quality of the mind and honest affection of the one who wielded it.

Blake never found out what happened to that runaway Omega from the safe house. He'd prayed for her, hoped that she had found what she wanted, but secretly felt that another bad man had found her, possibly bonded, and that her life might be only one of misery and pain.

Realizing he had let his thoughts turn dark as he stood in Claire's room, Blake felt the bite of his friend's ring in his clenched fist cutting uncomfortably into his palm, waking him up from despair. Swallowing back the anger, he relaxed his grip, took a breath, and focused again on his hope for Claire and his hatred for Bane.

Claire would never seek out an Alpha like that. She would fight for herself; she would fight for the ones she cared for. And so would he.

He left that space with a hard set to his jaw and violence in his body, almost hoping to run into trouble on the way home.

* * *

Claire was unsure how many days had passed, what the hour was, how long she slept or why she was always exhausted when she woke. Bane had not returned once. There was no one to talk to, no soothing scent. There was nothing else to do but obsess at the order of the room and try not to think about how very lonely she was. She cleaned every surface, going so far as to pull everything out of the dresser and refold each item in sharp corners and organized piles, needing distraction.

More than once she had unwittingly allowed her thoughts to circle on the Alpha, to feel the thread tempting her to recall his more pleasing points. Claire wanted him back, his soothing purr, the heat of his body in her nest. Everything was muddled by the enforced seclusion, off putting and confusing.

After shutting the last drawer, ready to move on to the bookshelf, what Bane had called her _window_, Claire turned and yelped. A woman was standing behind her, so close they could have been touching. Green eyes went wide at seeing a stranger and quickly she stammered, "Hello," wondering for a moment if she had lost her mind and was hallucinating.

A smile, the lovely polished, practiced grin of nobility, spread across soft lips. Claire could smell that the female was not what she seemed. The exotic beauty was an Alpha, but so delicate the brunette could almost pass for an Omega... as if at a key growth period in her life she had been malnourished. "Hello, pretty one."

Backing away a slow step or two, Claire found blue eyes tracking her movement and a small amused smirk on those lips.

"Who are you?"

The coolness of the woman's fingers made Claire instantly pull her head back. It did not stop the darkly smirking woman from tracing her nail lightly at the soft skin under Claire's jaw. "I am Bane's beloved."

That string in her chest, the chain, writhed at those words. Pressing a hand defensively over her belly, she replied, "I am Claire."

"Claire," A subtly accented voice echoed smoothly, drawing out the pronunciation of her name.

A glint was in those oval eyes, something unwelcome and treacherous, and Claire backed away again. The Alpha was dangerous, and was looking at her like a piece of meat, every warning bell inside the Omega was going off full blast.

The woman countered until Claire found the back of her knees trapped against the bed. The intruder purred, "Be still, Omega."

Claire's voice dropped a level, her shoulders grew stiffer, and she said it again, "My name is Claire."

Like a flash of lightning, pain burst across Claire's face. Pressing her hand to her suddenly bleeding lip, wide green eyes looked back and found that it appeared as if the woman had not even moved.

"You're drenched in him." The Alpha female cocked her head to the side and sniffed. "Lie on the bed and spread your legs so that I may see."

Claire snarled, showing her teeth. "I don't know who the fuck you are, but back off."

There was a tutting sound in the air. "You can obey or I will have Bane force you."

"Then get him to force me... I don't spread just because an Alpha bitch commands it."

Like a striking snake, a hand circled Claire's throat, strong and unyielding. Automatically, Claire grasped the attacking arm, yanking desperately to pull it away, her enraged shrieks caught behind the crushing of her windpipe by the much stronger female. She was pressed back until her knees bent and her back hit the mattress, all the while the chilling unblinking blue eyes of a killer stared down at her.

The woman's hand was stroking up Claire's naked thigh under the skirt before forging fingers jammed painfully inside her, swirling around her dry womb. The brunette drew them out and tasted. "You are pregnant. How interesting."

The grip grew stronger and spots gathered in Claire's vision.

"Talia." It was one word spoken in a very dangerous tone.

The brunette turned her head toward the door to look upon the man standing there. Claire was turning purple, and gasping, her legs kicking as the two looked at one another.

"My love," Talia spoke conversationally. "Your plaything's eyes are the wrong color. My eyes are blue."

"Release the Omega's throat."

With a playful smirk and a quick flourish of her fingers, Talia let Claire go. Coughing, sucking in air, Claire scrambled away, her wide eyes looking at Bane, looking at the man who bonded to her stand by and do nothing. Everything was wrong, the cord was jangled, and with horror, Claire saw... total love in Bane's expression as he looked at the Alpha female approaching him.

The exotic beauty walked slowly, like a leopard, toward the giant and pressed with a purr, "I have missed you. Get rid of your toy, I only have a few hours before I must return."

Cupping the woman's face tenderly, Bane answered, "The Omega is not allowed to leave this room."

Talia shrugged her shoulders "Then she can join or watch. What a pity I missed her last cycle; we have not shared a heated Omega in some time."

Short shallow breaths, that's all Claire could manage as she pressed herself against the wall and realized just how depraved the man who had hooked an anchor into her chest really was. The man she'd been missing for days, a man she realized at that moment she had stupidly begun to feel for. Now she understood. No chemicals from pregnancy, no pair-bond could change it. She was nothing to Bane, she had been manipulated to care for a man who loved another... to be what the female had insisted... his plaything.

"Claire, you will go into the bathroom and remain there until I come for you."

He had spoken her name. She was dumbstruck, staring at the two of them, staring at Bane... at her mate, touch another female affectionately.

When she made no movement to follow the command, the masked head came up and grey eyes narrowed menacingly. "Go."

Each step felt like walking on glass, but the pain was a blessing, a gift from the goddess of the Omegas. Her mind began to clear, the influence of the cord began to weaken, and Claire began to feel nothing at all. She closed the door behind her and sat alone, staring the future dead in the face, and now knew just what hell looked like.

The sound of the two Alphas fucking was nothing, breathing was nothing. Where she had been slowly settling into life in that little grey walled room, she was now free of such petty things or further existence. A great crack ran through her chest, a fissure that bled horrible noxious gas into the air. Claire sat there in the dark, with the music of evil coming through the door, and remembered the name carved on the wall of the cell in Arkham.

_E. Nigma._

Wasn't that the truth; but she'd just solved the puzzle. The next time she ran there would be no captivating dreams, no seductive calling purrs... because there was nothing left now for the greasy thread to hold on to. There was nothing left inside her... but she was still horribly Claire.

Later, Bane woke her from where she slept against the wall. He pulled her up even as her eyes were opening and sat her on the lid of the toilet to press a wet towel to her split lip. She looked him dead in the eye, a fierce penetrating nightmare of a gaze, and when he said nothing, she began to laugh at him, loudly and saturated in judgment.

He was pathetic... disgusting. And he was dead to her.

The expression that came to those grey eyes was one of confusion, the look a small boy cornered by bullies wears. And it was perfect.

A hard voice growled a warning, "Talia is dangerous."

Claire only laughed harder, a hoarse sound from the damage to her throat. She laughed until her face was red, until her insides hurt. She laughed until she had to push past Bane to rush to the sink and throw up. Standing straight, she wiped her stinging mouth with the back of her hand and, still snickering, just walked out of the bathroom and into a room that, if she had any reason to breathe, would have smelled utterly tainted.

It was just four grey walls, every crack known to her. A box with nothing in it.

Her nest was a wreck, so Claire just lay down in the middle of the floor and closed her eyes. It almost felt like she was merging with the earth, becoming one with the endless grey of the room. It was beautiful.

When she woke it was sunny outside, Claire felt it in her bones. Imagining the way sunlight must glint of the December snows, she stared at the ceiling. She was alone again. Food was on the table waiting for her. Standing she took the plate, carried it to the bathroom, and flushed everything down the toilet. Dropping the vitamin, her lips sounded out the word, "plop," as it fell into the swishing water. The empty plate was returned to the tray and she went right back to her warm outline on the floor. The whole day passed, Claire feeling every hour crawl across her skin as if she were a sundial. The cooler shadows following the warming light. She stared up as if she could see through all the floors above her and found a cloud filled sky that was dusting Gotham in snow.

The door opened and Claire moved her eyes in her skull, her green gaze finding the bearded Beta had come with another tray. The Beta moved passed her as if she did not exist.

Devoid of feeling, Claire mocked, "Am I ever going to learn your name or must I continue to label you as the bearded Beta?" Feigning amusement she added, unhinged, "It does have a kind of rhythm though..."

Deadpan, he answered flatly, not looking at her, "I am Barsad. Bane desires that you do not forget the vitamin."

The empty tray was taken and he walked by without even looking at her.

"Nice talking to you, Barsad."

The door was locked and Claire made sure that she followed Bane's mandate. She flushed all the food and definitely did not forget the vitamin. Now that she was hollow inside it was nice to have the grey room to herself... and Claire made the most of it. She showered, changed her clothing, brushed her hair... all the things living people were supposed to do. Then she went right back to that spot on the floor.

She had no idea how much time had passed, but inevitably the sound of combat boot thudded against her floor and the monster crouched over her. A purr sounded and Claire opened her eyes, and just cocked an acerbic brow at the sad attempt.

She felt nothing.

He picked her up, her body hanging limp, and took the fresh dress, putting her in the bed. The sheets must have been changed, Claire thought absentmindedly. Either that or she had lost the pattern of Bane's scent. Everything just smelled flat. The man slid in beside her, naked, and eased up close. As he did everything he wanted, taking what she never offered, he pressed his chest to her body and growled.

Nothing.

He spread her legs, growled again, and let his fingers dance between her thighs. Whatever he was doing, Claire only looked up at the ceiling, saw the overcast night sky. She did not make even a noise when a foreign presence pushed uncomfortably into her unprepared body. She just lay there through all of it, unsure how long he tried, how hard he worked... because she didn't care. An odd stretch let her know that the sweating grunting thing had knotted.

Still nothing.

While their bodies were locked she heard the distant sound of a low raspy metallic voice and ignored it, far too busy with the sky. There were tugs at her hair, the smooth strokes of hands. Claire just yawned, sleep was immediate.

* * *

Walking through the cold halls of Blackgate, Nona maintained a posture of authority, even diminutive as she was between the two large soldiers flanking her. She had not been troubled or questioned for weeks, and wondered what asinine things they would waste her time asking now. When the door was opened and her form was pressed into the room, even she could not hide the quirk in her brow and the sudden feeling of dread when she found it was not the small Beta, Barsad who sat at the table.

Even seated the man was huge. The air was full of aggression, his scent strong. The natural Omega response was submission to such a presence; but, even so, Nona tried to maintain her ramrod spine.

"She seems to think standing as you do serves a purpose as well. But you are still Omega and you know resistance to one such as I is pointless." The man explained, his voice almost conversational though the narrowing of his eyes was anything but pleasant.

Pulling out the chair, Nona took a seat without being asked, old enough to know better than to engage his taunt.

"You are the de facto leader of this pack of Omegas," the man began, hard unblinking eyes watching the older woman compose herself.

"I am not. We function as a democracy."

"How have you found the accommodations I have provided?"

"Prison-like," Nona answered flatly, watching him just as carefully as he watched her.

The man was not impressed with her bravado. "I have supplied you with clean running water, wholesome food, warm blankets, shelter..."

"Your rationalization is faulty," Nona interrupted. "All those comforts are only to prepare the Omegas for slavery to a stranger."

"You are the one that corrupted her into thinking the way that she does."

Now that was interesting. Cocking her head must a little, Nona said, "Excuse me?"

"Of the eight Omegas pair-bonded since arrival into my keeping, all have accepted their place, behaving as they should."

It was foolish to smile, one good swing and he could rip her head off her shoulders, but Nona allowed the expression. There was a catch to his statement, an underlying irritation that exposed his own less than perfect relationship. "There is nothing that I can tell you that would make Claire be what she is not. I have droned for hours about the foods I know she likes, her hobbies... all questions you could have asked her yourself."

"Your only use to me, old woman, is information that will help settle my mate." Bane explained in that same deadly false normal. "Do not think to posture or advise."

"Then get to the point."

The slight flaring of his grey eyes, the sudden stink of hostility, Bane was not a man who was ever commanded save by one person. "I am beginning to suspect you have outlived your usefulness. There is room for your body to swing next to the other Omegas."

"If there is something wrong with Claire, I would do anything to help her." Nona argued, keeping her position even as Bane slowly stood to glare down at her. "Whatever insight you seek, just ask."

"My mate has grown withdrawn."

Scowling, Nona looked up at him and wondered how the hell he could possibly be surprised. With her thin lips in a line she simply waited for the man to continue.

Growling, Bane leaned nearer, "Are you going to say nothing."

"I am unsure what you would expect me to say," Nona maintained. "That is not a word I have ever heard another use to describe Claire. She is usually quite vocal. Whatever she is now you have created in your treatment of her."

"At the separate deaths of her parents what brought her out of melancholy?"

"Time and the support of people she loved."

It was clear the answer was unacceptable, that the giant had reached the end of his patience.

The man made her sick and it was clear in Nona's accusation, "Do you behave this way with her as well? She won't respond to it."

"I am very careful with Claire."

Something in his words made her feel he was lying, or that he was careful in the way one holds a newborn kitten... an unnatural way to behave with a mate. Sniffing the air, leaning forward to make her appraisal obvious, Nona found very little of Claire's scent on the man. "And you have studied her like a specimen with the information gathered from outside sources. Why, to manipulate the situation to your liking?"

"Of course."

"Apparently your strategy has failed." That was it. "There is nothing I can say to help you, Alpha."

Bane looked at her long and hard as he calculated her punishment. "There will be no food for any Omegas for the next three days. All will be notified you were the cause of starvation."

* * *

How funny the world was. Everything was in reverse. Claire sat in the chair, her head resting in her palm, elbow against the table, staring into space while Bane was the one pacing. Back and forth, back and forth; he was like an agitated dinosaur. Absently, Claire imagined him with a great big tail, knocking things over with every swish and giggled.

The great hulk stopped and looked at her, and said something. It sounded almost like _I want a giraffe_, and she chuckled even harder. It made sense, dinosaurs would probably eat giraffes.

Thin fingers began to drum against the table in a slow tempo. And again the beast prowled. Eventually he tugged her up, as he had done each other time he'd been in the room, and he took her dress. It was the same, the mattress at her back, his useless growl, and then whatever tricks he had thought up to seduce her body. That day it seemed he thought to be clever and smoothed a great portion of lubricant on his jutting cock and also carefully between her folds before he began the rut. He thrust this way and that way, just like his disturbed pacing. Bane tried everything to get a response... going to far as to take off the mask and kiss her slack lips, to whisper in her ear, to caress and stare into eyes that were far away.

"Little one, come back."

She would never come back. Not to him. Not to the beast who had made her want him once and betrayed her so thoroughly.

She actually fell asleep while he was still moving inside her.

Eventually Bane figured out what she was doing with the meals that were delivered while he was away. Not that it was hard to discover when she did not even look at the food he brought her. She was growing wane, dark circles under her eyes, and no matter what he pushed between her lips, she would not swallow. She would only stare with those green eyes, stare straight at him, daring him to try and make her eat.

Slamming his hand on the table so hard the metal groaned, Bane stood and started shouting, grey eyes blazing. Claire stared right back, and lazily spit out everything in her mouth, letting it fall to her lap, with a cocky grin. There was a roar, the entirety of her tray thrown across the room to slam loudly against the wall. Glancing at the mess, she watched a glob of mashed potatoes slowly run down the grey.

A paw wrenched her from the chair, and a blanket was wrapped around her, making her a little Claire burrito. He had her in his arms, and went to the door. The metal was thrown back and her grey walls disappeared. Claire just sighed, annoyed with this new something. Bits and pieces came to her distracted gaze. A fire extinguisher she had seen before, a blue door, a room full of computer monitors; only this time there were men in that room, men in the halls, soldiers all wearing a bit of red cloth somewhere obvious on their bodies.

The sound of combat boots on concrete stairs, grunted orders Claire ignored, and a door opened to blasting cold. Atmosphere, fresh air... she saw this through the walls, it was nothing special. Claire only closed her eyes and rested her head against the monster that still held her. The great arms shook her roughly to jar her eyes open. Scowling, she glanced around at all the snow and smacked her lips, gave a '_whatever'_ hum and closed her eyes again.

Bane was having none of it. He set her down on her feet and backed away so that she had to stand on her own. Claire did, knowing something that no other man on that roof knew. A mind can learn entirely new things almost instantly when it was utterly devoid, eyes saw minutia that thinking minds missed. She stood on her own two feet and looked up at the snowing sky... feeling the large white flakes melt on her cheeks and knew without looking that the beast had drawn a relieved breath.

No one could have known what she was going to do. Not one of them could have suspected it. Under the pretense of a yawn, Claire cracked her neck, and rolled her shoulders in a way that loosened the blanket. Then in a burst of speed, she darted like a bolt of lightning toward the ledge and bound over the edge of the roof to fall into darkness before any could reach her.

The inertia of limp bodies absorbed force far differently than stiff flailing ones; Claire knew that. What she didn't know was that even high fluffy piles of snow really, really hurt when you jump off a building to land in one.

There was a general outcry above her, but the fresh powder had sucked her in, hiding her, just long enough to kick the snow into the street drainage and slip down into the icy corridor only someone as small as an Omega could fit through. Then she did what she did best. Claire ran.

Above ground it looked as if she had simply vanished... since she was already dead inside she may as well have.

* * *

**Did I rip your heart out? There is so much more to come... so hold on tight friends.**

**I have had a truly shitty last couple of days and was not going to post this for a while, just so I could make sure it was fully ready and my head was clear. Fortunately, I have the world's best Beta who checked over the details I might have missed and made this bright and shiny for you. Thank you Rayne!**

**And thank you to everyone who reviewed. Please do so again, it would really cheer me up. More so, I am very interested to hear where you think the story is going from here. **


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

By the time she had found his door her feet were like dead meat on the end of numb legs. Scratching at the wood, Claire slumped, the adrenaline high fading and a rolling sense of malaise taking its place. When the door cracked open and narrowed brown eyes looked out into the dark, had she the capacity, Claire would have laughed at the look of shock on Blake's face when he found her.

She was filthy, stringy hair wet from snow and sweat, badly scraped up from her fall, a black hand print of bruises like a necklace around her throat. That was nothing compared to the state of her feet when he tried to help her to stand. It looked almost as if the skin had just been peeled off the bottom, cracked and bleeding. He pulled her inside, brought her freezing body flush to his, and locked the door.

"Claire!" He whispered the exclamation, rubbing his hands up and down her arms and back to create heat through friction. "I have you."

It's a good thing he did, because about three seconds later her eyes rolled back in her skull and she was dead to the world. Blake cranked on the shower, held her in the warm water, and tried to rub some life back into her while she sagged limply against him. The girl was almost blue, and with the power out, the remnants of warm water would not last long. Blake made quick work of it, stripped off the ruined dress and washed off the blood, pointedly ignoring her nudity to get the job done.

The gauze at her shoulder had grown saturated; he peeled it back and saw what the beast had done to her. His claiming marks, the tissue still red and distorted, and Blake cursed Bane to hell. Even after what looked like weeks of healing, her shoulder was a fucking mess.

Blake did his best to wash her, to remove the scent of the Alpha, while holding Claire against his soaking clothing. The second the water went cold, he pulled her out, dried her carefully, and carried her to his bed. There she laid, naked and wounded, the bruises on her inner thigh unmistakable, though Blake tried not to see what was right before him. There were many wounds that needed to be treated before he could clothe her, and he tried to be tactful, minding the sleeping Omega's privacy by covering whatever part of her he was not working on at that moment with the blankets.

Left arm and right arm were scrapped up, elbows sluggishly bleeding as if she had rubbed the skin off on narrow walls, unaware she was doing so. There was nothing he could do for her throat, the bruises already looking a few days old. The injuries grew far more complicated with her legs. It was clear she had fallen more than once, and both kneecaps were still bleeding, one looked like it might need stitches and would probably scar. He did his best with butterfly sutures, closing the gap of torn flesh, lining up the skin so that it might mend. The joints would swell, that was unavoidable, and he hesitated to ice them as she was already shivering and still cold to the touch.

"You are going to be okay, Claire," he whispered to her sleeping form. "You are safe with me."

"It doesn't hurt." The sound from her throat, the hoarse grunted half-aware explanation made Blake cringe.

"Shhhh," he leaned down and stroked back her wet hair, surprised to find her awake. "Rest your throat."

Puffy green eyes cracked open to find him so near in the dark. She sniffed him and reached out one bruised hand to touch, to maintain contact, to prove he was real.

Blake worked quickly to finish, disinfecting every abrasion on her outer thighs, knees, shins. Ointment was spread and bandages liberally applied. Her feet were a whole different monster. There was little he could do, and she would hardly be able to walk when she woke, but he picked out the bracken, noting how she did not seem to move or twitch as Claire's hooded green eyes watched him in the light of a single candle.

The best he could do for her was wrap her feet in bandages, wrap them tightly to minimize swelling, and hope to god they did not get infected. He moved to stand up from where he sat beside her and the hand she had rested on his thigh squeezed tight, halting his movement.

"I'm only going to get you clothing and some painkillers," Blake offered, creating the comforting smile he had perfected since he was a boy.

Claire only held tighter, clearly disjointed and afraid. "Don't go; don't leave me alone."

Brushing the Band-Aid wrappers to the floor, Blake did as she wanted, slipping as carefully as he could beside her, covering them both with his heavy blankets and wrapping around her to share body heat. He held her, he offered what little he could to ease her trembling, stroking her naked back to calm her so she would not be afraid.

Brokenly, her voice came through, "Will you purr for me?"

Such a thing was an act of intimacy between lovers and family, but there was no hesitation at the woman's forlorn request. Blake pulled in a deep breath and started the rumbling vibration at once. The sound was a little off, clearly not something he was accustomed to, and though it lacked the richness of an Alpha purr it was infinitely soothing at that moment.

"That's nice," Claire sighed in exhaustion, her voice small. The last question was whispered with such tortured need it broke his heart. "Would you keep doing that until I fall asleep?"

Blake met her eyes, put a hand to her face so that she knew he had heard her, and promised, "Yes, Claire."

"I hate that name," she whimpered, her mind already falling into the same emptiness she had found each night since Bane had broken her.

* * *

When Claire finally came around they lay huddled close, like children whispering secrets. Sticky lashes lifted and found soothing brown eyes already watching her, found her friend offering comfort as he cautiously smoothed her tangled hair off of her face. They were so close she could see the night's stubble on his cheek, smell his breath.

He seemed so real.

Sharing a pillow they just rested, each looking at the other, finding a mirror of accumulating losses and sorrow. Sucking her swollen lower lip into her mouth, Claire felt the sting and tasted the scab from where that woman, Talia, had struck her for refusing to spread. A clinging confusion made it difficult to navigate the fog of how she'd gotten there, but she did register that she was separated from Bane, in a great deal of physical discomfort, naked, and that she had found Blake and he had taken her in despite the fact that she had drugged him in her mission to help the Omegas.

In a voice that seemed to come from somewhere far away, she explained, almost as if reminding herself, "I jumped off the back roof of City Hall... landed in high piled bank of snow."

"And you ran here," Blake finished for her.

"I ran through so much darkness..." she seemed upset, not with her explanation but with her being there, burdening him with her presence. "I'm sorry, Blake."

Immediately he tried to calm her, "For what?"

"I drugged you," she whispered. "I mislead."

It's not like he was going to pretend that she had not done it, even if her intentions had been good. "You could have trusted me, you know."

Claire looked down at the pillow that she had stained in sleep with dried blood from some part of her head. "If I had taken you, he would have killed you."

Carefully, Blake rested his arm around her over the blanket, trying to communicate that she was safe, that he would never hurt her.

Claire muttered, her voice flat as she addressed what Blake must have noticed almost immediately, "I'm pregnant."

His mask slipped and his authentic expression that the world was harsh and painful took its place. Blake knew that there was only one way that could have happened. Bane had forced another heat-cycle, like what had been done to the Omegas the cops had rescued. There was very little he could say, little he could do, but one thing Blake could offer her. He looked her dead in the eye and asked, "Do you want to remain that way?"

What a question... Claire had to think about it for a minute, felt Blake breath patiently, recognized at last that she had been gripping him to a point it must have pained him. Easing her hold, she stared off into space, measured the little bit of human that she still was, and knew she had not wanted a baby yet. More so, she had foolishly allowed herself to grow into an attachment for the monster that had filled her womb, a monster that was using her to create said child, a beast whose lover had tried to kill her.

Releasing Blake completely, Claire pressed her hand to the life that was no bigger than a marble growing inside her. She could rid herself of the issue; abortion was a common practice, probably accessible even now. She could have Bane carved out of her.

"I don't know," Claire muttered, green eyes trying to focus back on the man. After a shuttering breath she admitted the horrific truth, "I don't feel anything, you know. Inside... I feel nothing at all."

Blake thought of the rescued Omega who'd acted like this when she'd come out of her forced estrous, Kim Phan, who just stopped breathing, and the arm he had around her tightened. He tried to offer comfort where he knew none would serve, "I know it might seem like the world has ended for you, Claire, but you are free now. You are a survivor."

She could not help but smile sadly at the man who would never understand. "Survivor? What kind of future do you see for me? I was pair-bonded to a monster to be his toy, drugged into an unnatural heat cycle, impregnated against my will so I would grow devoted, and then forced to listen to the Alpha who was supposed to be my mate fuck his lover... A very scary Alpha female, by the way, who wrapped her hands around my throat and shoved her fingers inside me about ten seconds after I met her."

"Shhhh," Blake hushed, rubbing her back and trying not to grimace at what she'd just revealed.

"It's okay for us both to admit that there isn't going to be a happy ending for me," she added gently, devoid of feeling. "I have no future, but I can still fight for them."

He moved her hair, wanting to stroke but restraining his hand, and understood her need to rage. Even so, she was in no shape for war. "If you step outside that door and try to take on Bane, you won't win."

"I won't win... but I am going to act out," Claire's voice was growing stronger, her green eyes hardening in hateful determination. "I am going to do everything I can to make noise. And if they catch me, I'll make sure they kill me."

"Please listen to me, Claire," his voice was urgent, his hand on her shoulder, offering brotherly affection. "You don't need to do this. The cops have a plan... outside support is coming soon. If you want to help, grow stronger."

"I intend to." She nodded, breathing in his breath as he exhaled in relief, knowing he misunderstood. "Bane once told me that there is no good in the people of Gotham, but he was wrong. This occupation has stripped away all our pretenses and it's so much easier to see integrity in the few that possess it." Claire scooted closer, honest determination coming over scraped features, "You, Blake, are a good man."

"And you are a good woman, Claire," he murmured back.

Claire just forced a soft smile she did not feel. She was not a person anymore.

Blake could say at least one thing that would help. "While you were gone, I want you to know that we found the distributor of the counterfeit heat-suppressants. A group of Betas infiltrated and set the Omega's free. The drugs were destroyed. The men all paid for their crimes."

There was a flutter in Claire's chest, a moment of feeling she had to kill at once. It echoed briefly in the big hollow cavity and she felt her eyes grow wet. "Thank you, Blake."

"You are a part of that, you know," a hint of the boyish smirk was there, "Your determination. You fought for them."

"I didn't do anything but get raped and cry about it."

"You're wrong." He gave her a little squeeze. "You stood up to the biggest monster of them all. You have escaped him twice now. You are strong, Claire."

"He deformed my thinking. The pair-bond, the baby... I started to care for him, to feel comfortable in his presence, to need him," she admitted brokenly, ignoring the instant swell of pain in favor of dead apathy. "I was weak."

"Given the circumstances, it was only natural."

"I don't know what it was... but _it_ was. I stopped seeing only a monster and wanted the attention of the man. And once he had my attachment he made it the world's sickest joke, showing me I was nothing but an incubator he liked to play with. I should be grateful, I guess. Listening to him with her... it ripped the pair-bond out. He can't control me now."

Blake was not happy about the total lack of emotion in her voice. Whatever Bane had done had damaged Claire, and a part of him wondered if every expression she was making was only because she was supposed to remember things like breathing and blinking.

"He wants us to destroy Gotham, Blake. This occupation is not about power. It's about sending a message to the world that corruption and evil will not be tolerated, and Gotham is the model. His army is manipulating this false uprising to prove a point. He wants us to be savages, because that is what he thinks we are... Bane and his soldiers think they are heroes punishing the wicked." She laughed acerbically under her breath, "How fucked up is that?"

"You are free of his lies now. You're safe with me."

"The strangest thing about everything going on, is that I can't stop thinking that all I want..." Claire said, her voice breaking as her breath hitched pathetically, "...all I want is my mother."

* * *

"She escaped through a broken drainage gate. Blood on the scene shows the direction she ran and that her bearing was not affected by broken legs. The trail was lost when she climbed to street level and moved out over the sludge."

"How much blood?" Bane demanded, looking at the report in his hand, skimming to anything that might be relevant to tracking his mate.

"Minimal."

Merciless eyes glanced up from the paper to look at his smaller lieutenant. The mask did not distort his impatience when Bane explained, "The Omega has not eaten in almost a week. She will not have been able to manage a great distance malnourished, shoeless, and bleeding."

"Was she suffering from morning sickness?"

A grunt explained as Bane turned toward his desk. "Hunger strike."

Barsad stared blankly, seemingly unsurprised by such a statement. "When she is returned what are your expectations of Miss O'Donnell?"

Swinging around, Bane drew in an angry breath and glared at the man. "For her to resume her duty as my mate."

Only psychological damage would lead a pregnant pair-bonded Omega to hunger strike and jump off the roof seeking death or freedom. "And if that is not possible? Would you like to select a surrogate Alpha to see to her until she delivers your heir?"

A voice that had very little forbearance matched the look of intolerance in Bane's eyes, "You presume much, Barsad. She will be returned and her behavior corrected."

Barsad was second in command for good reason, little slipped passed him. Speaking with bold candor he explained, "Without physical contact the Omega is willing to accept, she may miscarry."

Bane was not a person to be gainsaid by man or woman. The final order was issued in an impatient growl, "You're dismissed."

Barsad left at once, beginning to understand the situation was far beyond his original assessment.

Bane sat at his desk, alone, his eyes on the reports flashing from his monitor, yet every so often he kept looking back, expecting to see her pacing. He knew in his bones that she would seek out the _noble_ man who had offered help and that the Beta would take her in. The very idea another might touch her... be a surrogate... infuriated him. Gnashing his teeth, Bane swore to himself that any man who touched her would die screaming.

He had purred, growled, stroked, followed every instinct to rouse her back from her stupor... he'd even tried to explain. Him! The Alpha... the strongest, who was never questioned, had tried to reason with an Omega. But she had not even blinked.

It was her vocation to stay, to be devoted, to love him, to obey. Had he not seen to her needs? Had he not given her nice dresses and the best food? Had he not spent hours simply petting her until she was completely content? What was one unpleasant situation compared to that!

_Had he not saved her life in more ways than one?_

Impregnating her assured her survival; gave him a justifiable reason to get her out of Gotham before the fire burned corruption away. No one would question the safekeeping of his heir. Bane could not tell her in so many words; she was not League of Shadows, was far too determined in her ideal of _goodness_ to comprehend the greatness of the mission; and the reasoning for his actions was unnecessary for her to know. Bane knew if Claire realized the true nature of the bomb she would only fret more, and cry for her pathetic fellow citizens instead of giving all her attention to him. Direct treachery was better. It kept him in control of her fate. But she was wilful, so damn obstinate with her foolish romantic notions.

Bane's fist pounded the table and roared loudly, enraged at his lack of connection to his Omega.

Talia's unexpected arrival had been problematic and the Demon Head was clearly displeased by what she had found. Talia would have ripped Claire's beautiful green eyes out had Bane not pacified the woman once she'd seen what he kept hidden away. You don't reason with powerful provoked Alphas, you show action. Had he not fucked her so loudly, broadcasting his favor to assure the obviously territorial Alpha female did not view the Omega as a threat, Claire would have been torn to shreds. He did what was necessary, for both of the women.

It was the price to keep Claire.

Yet he had lost her anyway, even before she had run. The rush of anger in his blood, that outright fury... it was the same burning rage he'd felt when Bruce Wayne had come to him in the sewers laced with the scent of Talia's sex. As their battle progressed, Bane had inhaled it through the mask, was momentarily stunned as he processed what could not be, until he understood what Talia had done.

And then came the pain even his mask could not dissipate. His consort had defiled herself, purposefully tainted her body, and deceived him, mated with the traitor.

It took every ounce of Bane's control not to rip Wayne in half, to stick to the plan and drag Batman to the Pit for torture. How he had stared at the fallen brother's limp body in that plane as they flew to the arid lands that housed hell on earth, imagining a million ways to ruin him. Back in Gotham he had confronted the woman he had loved since her birth, the creature that was his whole life, who held his faith in her beautiful hands.

Since their first sexual experience they had shared only one another and the occasional estrous high Omega Talia had procured for them, so they could fulfil the animal urge to rut together as they were meant to. Alpha/Alpha pairings were difficult as there was no pair-bond, and it was in their natures to challenge for dominance, but the two of them were beyond such sordid behavior. He had never wavered... not once. She had.

She had fucked Wayne; turned what they had aside for some distorted revenge. As he heard her speak on the matter, as she convincingly painted a picture, Bane knew what was never mentioned. Talia had planned her seduction all along. Talia held Bane and spoke of her love, but he was so attune to her that he could sense the off smell. It was even worse than he had originally believed. Talia had chemically forced an unlikely ovulation; she wanted to bare the child of her enemy... to have a traitor's blood continue the line... a man her father had favored over him.

Bane's fidelity had been one sided. Talia did not hesitate to admit she had taken other bodies when they were apart for long stretches of time... After all, were they not Alphas, was it not their right? She had stroked his chest and smiled so perfectly, reminding him that what they shared was beyond simply the physical... they shared a great destiny, an eternal spiritual bond of love.

Bane fulfilled his duty to the Demon Head. Gotham fell, everyone playing their part to perfection, yet he was less for it. The world had shifted, he had achieved greatness, but what was he left with? Nothing. A big black hole where the light had gone out. He was incomplete.

But then he smelled something untainted hiding under the stink of decay. Like a gift from the gods, Claire was delivered; unlikely virtue born out of the filth of Gotham. A lotus. Claire, with her convictions and her timid bravery walked up to a man like him; she stubbornly waited for hours... a lamb amongst the wolves, simply to ask for help for others from the very villain causing their suffering.

One breath of her and he would have taken her heat or no, but the gods had simplified things by delivering her in estrous.

As he rutted the willful strange thing, Bane found she wriggled so wonderfully, and felt so perfectly tight encasing his cock that he had to assure she could never leave. His love for Talia was beyond the physical as she had said, their love divine. That was why Bane felt perfectly justified in taking Claire and creating a corporeal mate, an attachment that would only benefit the unruly Omega. He bonded to keep Claire for himself, his reward for service to the greater good of mankind. The green eyed little one's purity was now his own, her nearness succor. In Claire, Bane had regained that missing piece, the covetous need to possess something innocent achieved.

Yet, now his bonded mate was gone... with his child in her belly, wandering a city that was destined to burn. He would have to return Claire by force. She would never come back to him willingly with the pair-bond damaged to the point he could hardly sense that she still even lived.

He could almost hear the echo of her words in the air: _Do not give me cause to hate you more._

What had gone through the mind of the Omega he found passed out on the bathroom floor? He anticipated anger but found something damaged far beyond his reasoning. His coupling with Talia had left Claire unresponsive and empty; left the cord so fractured all Bane could feel from her was an echo of great pain and desolation. It was not a sensation he enjoyed.

No amount of attention or space had made a difference. Glassy green eyes looked at him with judgment and hatred no matter how he tended her, touched her, or purred. All her favorite foods had been prepared, new dresses put in her drawer... she had not even noticed.

Claire O'Donnell belonged to him. Bane would find her and drag her back... and force feed her if he fucking had to. He would make her adore him like she was supposed to. Because she was his, only his, and he did not share his things. Ever.

He had even prevented the sharing of her body with his beloved. Was that not something?

* * *

Blake had rushed away, moving in a crazy pattern through the city to get back to Claire. It's not that he didn't trust her to stay put; it's that he didn't trust her at all. The look in her eye when Commissioner Gordon had arrived to guard her... had been nothing but calculating. There was none of her former fear or skittishness, her reaction almost unfeeling as she sized up the Alpha.

Gordon could see the change in her as well, the man reacting with cautious courtesy.

They exchanged pleasantries, Blake made them coffee, and then he left to reach out to his partner, Ross, in the sewers and pass forward the info Gordon had received from the outside. Blake's duties kept him out past dark, and the detective was utterly unprepared for the sight that met his eyes when he returned home.

Claire was asleep, curled up on the couch next to Gordon who was purring boldly as he sat in the dark.

An instant stab of something that almost felt like resentment moved through the young man as he asked, straight faced, "Did she ask you to do that?"

"No, I just knew what she needed." Gordon admitted softly, so as not to wake her. "When Barbara was pregnant I learned quite a bit."

Lighting a few candles, Blake took a seat on a chair he'd dragged over from the kitchen, face grim as he looked at Claire. "How was she today?"

"Better once she ate, less catatonic, more cognizant. But she has slept almost the entire time." Gordon turned to look at her. "Miss O'Donnell will be needing a lot of sleep and I am not entirely sure what her physical reaction will be, having parted from the father."

"She told me the pair-bond was broken."

Gordon was an Alpha, his estranged mate a Beta, but something in his gut knew that statement was incorrect. "It doesn't work that way, son."

Blake said nothing.

"There is something we all need to discuss," Gordon began, sitting up straighter in his seat. "Get dinner in her first, then I'll get to the point."

It was oddly uncomfortable to be ordered around in his own apartment, not that Blake did not agree with everything the older male was saying. Blake nodded, and went to the kitchen with his candle to gather rations for the three of them. There was no electricity so everything would be cold, but there was some fresh fruit for Claire, an apple he'd bartered a pack of batteries for so that she could have it.

Her dark head popped up and bleary eyes seemed confused at the rich rumble of an Alpha purr. The way she looked at Gordon when she realized what he was doing, it was almost comical, but she didn't say a word. Blake brought over their food and the three began to eat.

Blake relayed all he'd seen to his boss, both men aware she was listening intently.

"Is there another bounty?" Claire asked, her voice moderated but insistent.

"Yes." the detective answered.

She snickered, and forced down more of the salty rations, wondering how a body could laugh when the mind was devoid of feeling.

"I walked near City Hall. There was a line of citizens dragging in women of your description."

Her face was repulsed. "That's disgusting..."

"From what I could see, they were letting them go. But the city is hyped up. We have to keep you hidden."

Gordon finally broached the greater issue, "And not just from Gotham."

Claire cocked her head, green eyes narrowing as she lowered her spoon from her lips. "What do you mean?"

The older Alpha looked at her with significance. "I am trusting you with intelligence here, communications from the outside; so I need you to understand that what is said cannot leave this room."

"I never told Bane a thing about you," she countered aggressively.

Gordon began to purr instinctively at the aggravated Omega until she leveled a glare at him that said silently that he better knock it the fuck off. Respecting her autonomy, he desisted and nodded an apology. "A team of Special Forces is being prepared and will soon infiltrate Gotham. Unfortunately the orders I have received, from the president himself, are not to make any moves against Bane. Until the soldiers arrive and can assess for themselves, we are to maintain the government's current strategy, Bane's appeasement, in an effort to keep the triggerman from detonating the bomb."

The line of her mouth was sharp. Sitting up taller, setting her plate on the coffee table, Claire looked at both of them as if they were simpletons. "Appeasement? You're fucking kidding me right? It's been months and the outside world has done nothing. Where are these soldiers?"

Blake understood what had set her off, he felt the same away. "We do not know their arrival date."

Gordon began again, "The reason I am sharing this information is the potential impact on you. As far as I know, the outside is not aware of your pair-bond and that is precisely why it must be concealed. If Bane was to ask for you and it was in the Special Forces' power, they might give you back."

The thought had never struck Blake, not once in the orders they had received from the outside would he have considered that. The conversation he'd expected was to talk Claire out of her threats to act out. But Gordon was right, no one could know where Claire was, not even the other cops. Her predicament had been unspoken even during meetings and now that they were having the discussion, Blake could see that Gordon must have suspected this all along.

"We would never let that happen, Claire," Blake began at once, almost desperate to explain. "Ever. Do you understand?"

The blankness was back on her face. Claire sat silent for a long moment, processing the news, still as a statue. When she spoke her words were not for herself but for them, "You seem to be a wise man, Gordon. You must see that appeasement will never work. It's not the bomb that keeps us in his power. It's the lack of effort by every single person involved, inside the city and out. The bastard is showing us his view of our behavior is correct. The U.S. military has no power here, the president has kept us waiting. _We_ have to take back our city or we die trying."

Gordon reached out and put a hand on the stern Omega, moving slowly so as not to scare her. "Gotham citizens are just civilians; they're scared and have no business fighting a war."

As if confused, Claire shook her head, green eyes narrowed in thought. "No one in this city is a civilian anymore, there is no neutral. Either you are with Bane, or you are against him."

"It isn't that simple, Claire."

She looked to Gordon, seemingly lost as she muttered, "Isn't it?"

It was as if Claire was mirroring Blake's own thoughts.

A deep sigh preceded Gordon's explanation, "You are still young, and will learn in time that things are not always as they seem."

A dangerous hardness came to her expression as Claire cocked her head and spoke levelly, "Bane once told me the very same thing... you just echoed the words of a madman."

Gordon did not react to her taunt; he simply offered a consolatory smile.

It was Blake that spoke next, "We do have a plan. When the Special Forces arrive and we can pass forward the intel, we're going to set the cops trapped underground free. They have weapons and training and are already preparing to retake the bomb and fight for the city."

"Why wait? Why not make the move now?"

Gordon explained, "If we made a move prematurely, he might just detonate the bomb, Claire."

Claire's stared off into space, deep in thought. "Bane wanted a child so badly he drugged me to create one. So long as I am running wild in Gotham with his baby as my hostage, he may hesitate to press the trigger. Use me and rebel immediately. It's your best chance."

"I cannot risk millions of lives on a maybe," Gordon said solemnly. "I'm sorry, Claire. We will have to wait until we have outside experts that can defuse the bomb before we march."

"I understand," Claire said simply. And she did. She understood that the longer they waited the more people would die, that the world was a nightmare where her own president might hand her back to a despot.

Blake looked relived when she smiled at him. Gordon simply nodded and knew it was time for him to go. Claire shook his hand and played the part, polite, as they made their farewells. Clearing the dishes, walking on her battered feet, the pain sharpened her focus and added to the illusion she was creating.

Blake moved to her side and took her hand, leading her back to the couch to rest. When he had her still, and off her wounded feet, Blake smiled and pulled something out of his pocket.

"I have something for you, Claire," the detective offered, his face dimpled, a boyish grin offered to lighten the mood. "A few weeks ago I went to your apartment. Everything was pretty smashed up but I found this still hidden under the lining of your jewelry box."

Gold winked in his fingers, and it took her a good few seconds to realize what it was. Blake took her hand and put it on her finger.

"This was my mother's," Claire whispered as it slipped onto her finger.

Her father had passed it to his daughter after the woman's suicide. As a child, Claire had hated the sight of it, still angry with her mother, too young to accept what had happened. She had forgotten she even had it tucked away. And now it fit her, just like her mother's disappointment in life fit her. Claire was not smiling as she held her hand and looked at it against her pale skin, a pretty sparkling reminder that one could always choose; a strange connection to a ghost that seemed to oddly echo inside her.

Blinking out of her stupor, she looked at the detective and forced a smile she did not feel. "Thank you, Blake."

He took her hand again, gave it a squeeze, and promised, "I want you to know that I agree with everything you said."

Claire seemed lost again, her green eyes faraway. Unsure if it was the proper course, Blake started to purr and scooted closer to put an arm around her shoulder.

"They would give me back, Blake," Claire whispered into the dark as if it only just registered, "Just because he asked... not for any other reason. Men like that don't care about us."

"I'm not going to let that happen."

"The world seems terribly corrupted when one bad man can twist the actions of others so easily. It's not just Gotham... I think it's everywhere. Bane's harsh opinion of us might not be wrong."

Blake's arm tightened around her. "Are you saying you agree with him?"

"No," she answered quickly. "No. Evil cannot change evil. Maybe his underlying motivation seemed principled; I know he thinks it is. But it is not. It's a delusion."

"That's right, Claire," Blake reaffirmed, her talk slightly worrying him. "Bane and his army are delusional."

"But aren't we all a little these days..." she mumbled to the air.

Blake offered a caustic laugh and kissed the crown of her head, purring as loudly as he could, incredibly unsettled with her words.

* * *

**Holy shit balls Batman! I cannot believe how totally amazing you all are. The reviews from the last chapter really went a long way to cheering me up. From the bottom of my heart, thank you! For those of you who knew about the break in and offered support, love and kisses to you too. I will have a shiny new back door as of tomorrow and will sleep a whole lot better at night knowing it's not being held closed with a lounge chair.**

**As for Bane and Claire, I am, of course, DYING to know what you all think now that you have seen a glimmer of the masked man's thought process. Please be awesome for me again and review. On top of all that jazz, you know Claire has got something cooking up in her head. What do you think she is going to do?**


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